THE 



Ballad Book 




University Press : Welch, Bigelow, & Co. 




THE 



BALLAD BOO* 



V 



A SELECTION OF THE CHOICEST BRITISH BALLADS 



EDITED BY 



WILLIAM ALLINGHAM 

AUTHOR OF " DAY AND NIGHT SONGS," ETC. 




C A M BRIDGE \ 
SEVER AND FRANCIS 

i 865 



<*$ 




PREFACE 



THIS little Book is intended to present, for the 
delight of lovers of poetry, some fourscore 
of the best Old Ballads in at once the best and 
the most authentic attainable form. But let it 
be understood at the beginning, that in most 
cases the authority, if it deserve the name at all, 
for the text of an old ballad, is of an obscure and 
evasive kind ; and the more scrutiny, the less as- 
surance. To not many of the poems in this book 
could even an approximate date be affixed, and 
to not one the author's name. Ballad, ballata, 
is originally a song sung in dancing {ballaiido), 
or perhaps intermixed with dances. 

II. "The Old Ballads" suggests as distinct a 
set of impressions as the name of Shakespeare, 
Spenser, or Chaucer ; but on looking close we 
find ourselves puzzled ; the sharp bounding lines 
disappear ; the mountain chain so definite on the 
horizon is found to be a disunited and intricate 
region. Perhaps most people's notion of the Old 
Ballads is formed out of recollections of Percy's 



vi Of the Dissertations ■, etc. 

Reliques, Ritson's Robin Hood set, Scott's Bor- 
der Minstrelsy, as repositories ; of " Sir Patrick 
Spens," " Clerk Saunders," " The Twa Corbies," 
" Chevy Chace," " Thomas the Rhymer," and a 
few more ballads individually ; and withal of the 
presence of certain joyless introductions, disser- 
tations, notes, appendices, commentaries, contro- 
versies, of an antiquarian, historical, or pseudo- 
historical nature, wherein the poetry is packed, 
like pots of dainties and wine-flasks, in straw 
and sawdust. In most of the collections, lyrics 
and metrical tales are associated with the bal- 
lads proper, and it has been usual, besides, to 
load on a heap of Modern Imitations. All honor 
and gratitude to the collectors and editors, great- 
er and lesser ; yet one must venture to say that 
the really fine and favorite Old Ballads have 
hitherto formed the vital portions of a set of vol- 
umes which are, on the whole, rather lumpish 
and unreadable. The feast they offer is some- 
what like an "olla podrida" of Spenser's Fairy 
Queen, Dodsley's Miscellany, the driest columns 
of Notes and Queries, and a selection from the 
Poet's Corner of the provincial newspapers. 

The Ballads which we give have, one and all, 
no connection of the slightest importance with 
history. Things that did really happen are no 
doubt shadowed forth in many of them, but with 
such a careless confusion of names, places, and 
times, now thrice and thirty times confounded 
by alterations in course of oral transmission, va- 
rious versions, personal and local adaptations, 



Of the Best Ballads vii 

not to speak of editorial emendations, that it is 
mere waste of time and patience to read (if any 
one ever does read) those grave disquisitions, his- 
torical and antiquarian, wherewith it has been the 
fashion to encumber many of these rudely pic- 
turesque and pathetic poems. All the aforesaid 
wrappages, or nearly all, the present editor has 
taken the liberty to put aside, leaving the reader 
of this volume of Ballads to enjoy them simply as 
poems, unvexed with dull and trivial questions, to 
which, after all, no precise answers are forthcom- 
ing. 

III. Those Ballads which give color and val- 
ue to this department of English literature are 
the best of the " Robin Hood" set, and the Scot- 
tish and North English Ballads of a romantic 
and supernatural kind. The truly historical bal- 
lads are one and all inferior, and, considered as 
poetry, rather like chips in the porridge. The 
printers' ballads, by Deloney, Johnson, Elderton 
(who, as old Camden reports, " did arm himself 
with ale when he ballated"), and other profes- 
sional writers, made in a prosaic pedestrian style, 
though some of them meritorious in their own 
way, and preserving here and there a tinge of 
the better sort of ballad-writing, are of little or 
no account in the estimate. Some of the best 
" Robin Hood" Ballads were early printed ; the 
" Lytell Geste," by Wynken de Worde, probably 
in 1489 : but of the romantic Minstrel Ballads by 
far the greater number have been preserved by 
oral transmission, and gathered together by col- 



viii Of Dates 

lectors during the last hundred years, chiefly in 
the remoter parts of the kingdom, and from the 
mouths of persons of humble rank. Of the com- 
paratively few old MS. copies extant, most, if 
not all, were doubtless also taken down, directly 
or otherwise, from the oral delivery of profession- 
al minstrels, who themselves, whether as invent- 
ors or repeaters, were not accustomed to com- 
mit their verses to paper ; and such MS. copies, 
made by anonymous, and often, as in the case of 
Percy's Folio, illiterate hands, have really no 
more authority than oral versions obtained in 
our own day, except in so far as they may be 
held to represent the popular forms at such or 
such a date. 

The Ballads owe no little of their merit to the 
countless riddlings, siftings, shiftings, omissions, 
and additions of innumerable reciters. The 
lucky changes hold, the stupid ones fall aside. 
Thus, with some effective fable, story, or incident 
for its soul, and taking form from the hands of a 
"maker" who knew his business, the ballad (like 
the nursery rhyme) glides from generation to 
generation, and fits itself more and more to the 
brain and ear of its proper audience. At last 
the editors take it up, and then the alterations 
are huge and sudden, — here with great and ob- 
vious improvement, there injurious and destruc- 
tive. It is the quick work (good and evil) of a 
despotism compared with the gradual results of 
an old constitutional government. 

IV. How to date most of our popular romantic 



Of a Claim for Lady Wardlaw ix 

ballads is, to this day, a much debated question. 
It has been usual to take for granted, in a vague 
way, that they are old, — very old ; and to con- 
nect them with a certain marketable neatness, but 
with no true strength of link, with the bards, trou- 
veres, court minstrels, and so on. On the* other 
hand, a gentleman of much study in the matter 
has recently given it as his opinion {The Roman- 
tic Scottish Ballads, their Epoch and Author sliifi, 
by Robert Chambers, 1859] of most, if not all, 
the best of the romantic ballads, that some were 
written, and the others entirely recast, no further 
back than in the last century, by Elizabeth, 
Lady Wardlaw. To us, however, it appears that 
"Hardyknute" (granting the lady's authorship 
of that) has little or no poetical merit, and owes 
its reputation to the novelty, in that day, of its 
style ; the true and poor examples (whereof 
" Hardyknute " was a poorish imitation) lying 
hidden as yet from the reading public. From 
" Hardyknute " alone Mr. Chambers argues Lady 
Wardlaw's capability of writing or putting into 
their present forms " Sir Patrick Spens," " Ed- 
ward, Edward," "The Jew's Daughter," "Young 
Waters," " Edom o' Gordon," " The Gay Gos- 
hawk," "Gil Morice," "Annie o' Lochroyan," 
and many other of our best ballads. " Childe 
Maurice " (printed by Jamieson literatim from 
Percy's folio MS.) is "a poor, bald, imperfect 
composition," says Mr. Chambers, " in compari- 
son with 'Gil Morice.'" This old MS. copy is 
indeed imperfect, in the sense of fragmentary ; 



x Romantic Ballads 

that is, it does not give the whole ballad as then 
existing ; yet even in what it does give are to be 
seen the characteristics of our finest ballad po- 
etry, and we have gone back to it for the use of 
the present work. That, like every other ballad 
orally transmitted, this ballad became modified 
and altered in the course of successive genera- 
tions, cannot be doubted ; that, once the epoch 
of editors set in, the ballads were in a short time 
more touched, and by more skilful hands, than 
during their whole previous existence, seems in- 
dubitable ; but, that Lady Wardlaw, or any indi- 
vidual writer, recast " Gil Morice," or any other, 
much less most, of our best ballads, we find no 
evidence whatever. If not proved old, they have 
certainly not been proved modern. 

V. We look upon our romantic ballads as a 
class of poems traceable backwards to perhaps 
the fifteenth century, — impressive stories in a 
simple style of verse, sung (and often filled in 
with prose narration) by professional strollers of 
a humbler sort than the courtly minstrels, who 
themselves by this time were beginning to de- 
cline from their high place. These narrative 
songs (some derived from ancient times and for- 
eign countries, some abridged from the long 
metrical romances, some of new invention) were 
composed, not without genius in the best, by 
unlearned men for popular audiences ; and pass- 
ing from mouth to mouth and generation to gen- 
eration of singers and reciters, dull and clever, 
undergoing numerous alterations by the way by 



Popular Poems xi 

reason of slips of memory, personal tastes, local 
adaptations and prejudices, additions, omissions, 
patches, and lucky thoughts, and on the whole 
gaining in strength in the process, came in a lat- 
er day into the baskets of literary collectors, were 
transferred into the editorial laboratories, there 
sifted, mixed, shaken, clarified, improved (or the 
contrary), no one can ever tell how much, and 
sent at last into the World of Books in a proper- 
ly solemn shape, their triviality duly weighted 
with a load of antiquarianism, and garnished 
with fit apologies for the presentation of such 
"barbarous productions " to " a polished age like 
the present," and assurances that those high lit- 
erary personages, the " ingenious * Mr. This and 
the " elegant " Mr. That, whose own poems are 
so justly, &c. (read now, forgotten), have given 
some countenance to the venture. 

VI. Popular poems, similar in style and often 
in subject, are found in Denmark, Sweden, Ger- 
many, and other countries, all doubtless deriving 
no little from the splendidly obscure Oriental 
nursery of our race. In 1586, Sophia, Queen of 
Denmark, visiting Tycho Brahe, prince of stars, 
in his island observatory, was there storm-sted 
three days ; when, to amuse her Majesty, a 
store of old Danish Ballads, collected by Pastor 
Sasffrensen, a friend of Tycho's, was produced; 
and, with the Queen's encouragement, a select 
hundred of them were published in 1591, under 
the title of KcEinpe V/ser, Heroic Ballads. Just 
a century after this, Peter Say, another priest, 



xii Antiquity of the Ballads 

published a second hundred ballads of his own 
collecting. A complete edition of the Danske 
Viser, in 5 vols., appeared at Copenhagen in 
1812-14. Of the Swedish Ballads, collections 
have been published at Stockholm in 3 vols., 
1 8 14- 16, and in 3 vols., 1834-42. 

Among these Scandinavian Ballads are found 
parallel stories to our " Fair Annie," " Kem- 
pion," " Douglas Tragedy," " Katharine Jan- 
farie," " Etin the Forester," " Binnorie," " Willy's 
Lady," "May Colvin," "The Cruel Brother," 
"Sweet William's Ghost ";' while "Lord Ron- 
ald," and " Edward, Edward," appear in the old 
German popular minstrelsy. This strong family 
likeness to old foreign ballads (wheresoever we 
may look for the origin) is in itself no bad evi- 
dence for the antiquity of ours. The existence 
of many versions in various parts of the country 
goes strongly to prove the same point. But this 
is not all. " The Lytell Geste," as we have said, 
was printed about 1485. The " Hunting of the 
Cheviot" must be at least as old as Henry VIII.'s 
reign (some think half a century earlier). " Childe 
Maurice" in Percy's MS. is apparently in six- 
teenth-century spelling. A verse from " Little 
Musgrave" is quoted in 161 1 by Beaumont and 
Fletcher, and another from "Fair Margaret's 
Misfortunes" (see our notes). "Hynd Horn," 
" Tamlane," " Thomas the Rhymer," " Fair An- 
nie," " Kempion," and others, are ballad versions 
of early metrical romances. Several are by sub- 
ject and treatment clearly referable to the me- 



Oral Transmission xiii 

diasval times, such as "Hugh of Lincoln," and 
" y T oung Beichan." " Lord Thomas and Fair 
Elinor," and "The Bailiff's Daughter of Isling- 
ton," are among the black-letter broadsheets in 
Pepys's collection. In Wit Restored (1658) ap- 
pear "Johnnie Armstrong," "The Miller and the 
King's Daughter " (a burlesque version of " Bin- 
norie "), and " The Old Ballad of Little Musgrave 
and the Lady Barnard." In short, we believe 
that many of our best Old Ballads were old bal- 
lads in Shakespeare's time, and, considering the 
conservatism of the commonalty in such matters, 
that, for all the verbal variations, they are sub- 
stantially not much altered since then. 

VII. From the ancient Skalds and Bards, 
who were historians and genealogists as well as 
poets, the high harpers and gleemen, trouveres, 
jongleurs, romancists, and minstrels of every no- 
bler kind, we come, in those books which treat 
thereof, by obscure transition to the later ballad- 
singers of humble rank, strolling from house to 
hamlet, from tavern to cottage, with their songs 
old and new. Most of the ballads went to a fit- 
ting tune, but one tune did duty for many bal- 
lads. Some, perhaps, were rather chantingly 
recited than sung ; and the song or the chant, 
when given by a professed performer, was usual- 
ly accompanied by a harp, cithern (guitar), fid- 
dle, or other suitable instrument. Here and 
there a skilled private person would be sure to 
emulate in his own little circle the completeness 
of the professor ; while much more often the bal- 



xiv The Printing Press 

lad would be given in the huge chimney-nook of 
a farm-house or on the bench of a village-green, 
to some casual knot of listeners, in such irregu- 
lar and imperfect fashion as the memory and 
voice of some old woman or peasant youth could 
attain. But the printer encroached more and 
more on the power and privileges of the min- 
strel, whose profession grew ever poorer and 
lower, till at last he is denounced in 39th Eliz. 
cap. iv. among "rogues, vagabonds, and sturdy 
beggars." This marks the decline of the once 
highly honorable class, some fragrance of whose 
ancient repute, however, still lingered round a 
few sad survivors in Scotland and Ireland within 
living memory. 

VIII. As to the extent of ballad literature in 
the middle of the 16th century, take this fact 
(quoted from Collier by Mr. Chappell, Music of 
the Olden Time, i. 106), that, at the end of the 
year 1 560, " 796 ballads, left for entry at Sta- 
tioners' Hall, remained in the cupboard of the 
council-chamber of the company, to be trans- 
ferred to the new wardens ; and only 44 books." 
Most of these, however, were doubtless of that 
inferior London ballad literature written for the 
press, those broad-sheets whereof the Roxburghe 
collection almost entirely consists, those " Gar- 
lands " and " Penny Merriments " so numerous 
in their day, a literature interesting in other ways, 
but not as poetry, saving some rare exceptions. 
Why comparatively so few of our finest ballads 
are found early in print may be accounted for 



How we have gotten our Ballads xv 

thus, that the printing-press itself gave rise to 
this new school of ballad-makers, whose really 
very inferior compositions had a novelty, and, in 
a low sense, completeness of form and style, 
which brought them into favor, especially in the 
cities and the more polished and " progressive " 
parts of the country. Ballad-making, through 
the dingiest kind of printing-offices, has been 
continued from that day to this, when it finds its 
issues in a Seven Dials court, a Dublin lane near 
Thomas Street, or some similar alley of Cork or 
Glasgow. Meanwhile the nobler or wild-flower 
sort of popular ballad still sprang up here and 
there till about the time, we should guess, of 
Pope and Swift ; chiefly, if not exclusively, in the 
ruder Northern parts of the kingdom, which all 
along have been the most prolific in this kind, 
owing, perhaps, to the wild, moory, and moun- 
tainous scenery, the adventurous and martial 
habits, the old-world customs, and the closer 
connection with ballad-loving Scandinavia. The 
actual events to which the following ballads refer 
(very inaccurately as a rule), occurred, as far as 
we can trace, in or about the years affixed : — 
"Hughie Graham," 1560; " Edom o' Gordon" 
(old version, Captain Carre), 1 57 1 ; " Kinmont 
Willie," 1596 ; " Laird o' Drum," 1643 ; " Baron of 
Brackley," 1666 ; " Bessie Bell and Mary Gray," 
1666. With the eighteenth century set in the 
epoch of bslkid- editing. 

IX. After a good deal of reading and consid- 
eration on this matter, our opinion is that our 



xvi The Collections 

Old Ballads, as a class of popular poems, took 
their rise in pre-Shakespearian times (not to be 
more particular than we have warrant for), and 
were most of them transmitted orally for many 
generations, and, consequently, in countless va- 
ried versions ; that in the century and a half after 
Shakespeare ballads continued to be composed 
in Scotland and the North of England for popu- 
lar audiences in the good old style ; and that, 
half a century or so later than this, these, as well 
as similar remains in M S. and in rare books, be- 
gan to excite the curiosity of" the literary world," 
and certain of the countless oral versions, picked 
up by chance or sought out in the likeliest quar- 
ters, took printed forms, — manipulated more or 
less, or " given exactly as recited " by this or that 
peasant or gentlewoman of the old school, accord- 
ing to the nature of the collector. 

X. Now to say something of the chief collec- 
tions. Wit Restored (London, 1658) contains a 
version of "Johnnie Armstrong" and one of" Lit- 
tle Musgrave " ; and Miscellany Poems, edited by 
Dryden, 6 vols. (London, 1684- 1708), a version 
of the latter. A Collection of Old Ballads (Br. 
Mus. set, vol. i. London, 1723; vol. ii. 2d ed. 
1726; vol. iii. 2d ed. 1738) has " Johnnie Arm- 
strong," several of " Robin Hood," " Lord Thom- 
as and Fair Ellinor," " Chevy Chase," " Gilde- 
roy," and "The Baffled Knight." Allan Ram- 
say's Ever Green, Scots Poems wrote by the 
Ingenious before 1600 (Edinburgh, 1724), has 
" The Battle of Harlaw" and " The Reid Squair 



Percy xvii 

Raid" (both of the dull local-historical kind), 
"Johnnie Armstrong" again, and the apocryphal 
" Hardyknute ; " his Tea-table Miscellany (Edin- 
burgh, 1724) gives some better ballad-things, 
without saying where they come from, — namely, 
" Barbara Allan," " Sweet William's Ghost " (im- 
perfect and with spurious additions), " The Bon- 
ny Earl of Murray," " Waly, Waly," and also 
" Johny Faa, the Gypsie Laddie." In 1765 came 
Bishop Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Po- 
etry, gathered chiefly from " an ancient folio MS. 
in the editor's possession, which contains near 
two hundred poems, songs, and metrical roman- 
ces. This manuscript was written about the 
middle of the last century, but contains composi- 
tions of all times and dates, from the ages prior 
to Chaucer to the conclusion of the reign of 
Charles I." This folio was given to Percy by 
Humphrey Pitt, Esq., of Prior's- Lee, Shropshire, 
who said it was purchased with a library of old 
books. The bishop's nephew, editing the fourth 
edition in 1794, adds some particulars of this 
MS. "The first and last leaves are wanting; 
and of fifty-four pages near the beginning half of 
every leaf hath been torn away, and several oth- 
ers are injured towards the end. Besides that, 
through a great part of the volume the top or 
bottom, and sometimes both, have been cut off 
in the binding. . . . Even where the leaves have 
suffered no injury, the transcripts, which seem to 
have been all made by one person (they are at 
least all in the same kind of hand), are sometimes 
b 



xviii Percy 

extremely incorrect and faulty. Hence the pub- 
lic may judge how much they are indebted '[equiv- 
ocal !] to the composer of this collection." The 
famous MS., seen but by a select few, is, after all, 
of no very great importance for our particular 
business. Of the ballads we deal in, but two — 
"Glasgerion" and " Childe Waters" — are given 
by Percy as from the Folio only, though others 
have received insertions and corrections from 
that source. Four — " Lord Thomas and Fair 
Annet," "The Jew's Daughter," " Edward, Ed- 
ward," "Sir Patrick Spens" — are from MSS. 
"sent from Scotland." "Young Waters," " Gil 
Morice," and " Edom o' Gordon," are from cop- 
ies recently printed at Glasgow ; and " Little 
Musgrave," " King John and the Abbot," " Lord 
Thomas and Fair Ellinor," " Barbara Allen," 
"The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington," "The 
Frolicksome Duke," from old printed copies 
(emendated). For the rest, the Reliques consist 
of old poems, lyrics, and inferior ballads, some 
rare, some not. Speaking of his mode of deal- 
ing with his materials in the Folio and elsewhere, 
Percy says in his Preface : " These old popular 
rhymes, being many of them copied from illiter- 
ate transcripts, or the imperfect recitation of itin- 
erant ballad-singers, have, as might be expected, 
been handed down to us with less care than any 
other writings in the world. And the old copies, 
whether MS. or printed, were often so defective 
and corrupted, that a scrupulous adherence to 
their wretched readings would only have exhibit- 



Herd — Scott xix 

ed unintelligible nonsense, or such poor, meagre 
stuff as neither came from the bard nor was 
worthy the press ; when, by a few slight correc- 
tions or additions, a most beautiful or interesting 
sense hath started forth, and so naturally and ea- 
sily, that the editor could seldom prevail on him- 
self to indulge the vanity of making a formal 
claim to the improvement ; but must plead guilty 
to the charge of concealing his own share in 
the amendments, under some such general title 
as a ' Modern Copy ' or the like." He adds that, 
"where any considerable liberties were taken 
with the old copies," three asterisks are subjoined 
to the poem. 

In 1769 (2d ed. 1776) appeared Herd's An- 
cient and Modern Scottish Songs, Heroic Bal- 
lads, £rv., an indiscriminate gathering — no au- 
thorities given — including, among other ballads, 
versions of " Lammikin," " The Bonny Lass of 
Lochryan " ; " Fine Flowers in the Valley " [oth- 
erwise " The Cruel Brother "] ; " Earl Richard n 
[otherwise " Young Redin "] ; " The Lowlands of 
Holland " ; " May Colvin " ; a fragment of " Fair 
Annie," of " Kertonha" [otherwise " Tamlane"], 
of "The Cruel Mother," and of " Helen of Kir- 
connell." 

Now we come to Scott's Minstrelsy of the 
Scottish Border, the first two volumes published 
in 1802, the third in 1803, containing no fewer 
than forty ballads not published before, and 
among these, "Thomas the Rhymer"; "The 
Twa Corbies": "The Dowie Dens o' Yarrow n 



xx Scott 

[" The Banks o' Yarrow "] ; " Brown Adam " ; 
"The Wife of Usher's Well"; "Annan Wa- 
ter"; "The Douglas Tragedy"; "Kempion"; 
" Johnnie of Braidislee" ; " Katharine Janferie " ; 
" Clerk Saunders " ; " The Song of the Outlaw 
Murray " ; " Kinmont Willie " ; " The Fray o' Su- 
port" ; "The Daemon Lover" ["The Ship o' the 
Fiend "] ; " Lament of the Border Widow " ; 
"Willie's Lady"; aversion of "Lord Randal" 
["Lord Ronald"]; of "Helen of Kirconnell"; 
and of "Tamlane." With these, which seem to 
us the best, and with some more of the same 
class, the Minstrelsy includes a number of local- 
historical ballads (heavily loaded with antiqua- 
rian commentary), and a camp-following crowd 
of " Imitations." 

As to where and how Scott got those ballads 
and versions which were not before in print, and 
still more in regard to his manipulations, we are 
generally left in fog. Of the local-historical bal- 
lads he says he "has been obliged to draw his 
materials chiefly from oral tradition" (ed. 1851, 
i. 223). After pipers and other itinerants of the 
Border districts, he speaks of " shepherds and 
aged persons," and says, " It is chiefly from this 
latter source that the editor has drawn his ma- 
terials, most of which were collected many years 
ago," adding and correcting from a manuscript 
collection of Border songs made by Mr. Riddell, 
"a sedulous Border antiquary." Where copies 
disagreed, the editor preserved what seemed to 
him the best reading. " The romantic ballads," 



Scott xxi 

Scott says, are "much more extensively known 
among the peasantry of Scotland than the Bor- 
der-raid ballads, the fame of which is generally 
confined to the mountains where they were origi- 
nally composed. Hence, it has been easy to col- 
lect these tales of romance, to a number much 
greater than the editor has chosen to insert." 
Besides his own gatherings, Scott had the use 
of Mr. Herd's MSS., containing ballads pub- 
lished and unpublished. He also had two MS. 
books of ballads from Mr. A. F. Tytler (after- 
wards Lord Woodhouselee). Mr. Tytler's father 
got these from Professor Gordon, of Aberdeen. 
Professor Gordon's daughter, Mrs. Brown, re- 
membered most of them from the singing of her 
aunt, Mrs. Farquhar of Braemar, who was full 
of the old songs and ballads which she had 
heard from nurses and country women ; and 
these, with others of Mrs. Brown's own picking 
up, were at last written down. Much other as- 
sistance and information Scott received "from 
various quarters." To some of Scott's many 
arrangements and " conjectural emendations " 
reference is made here and there in our notes. 
We have no doubt that the ballads have gained 
very much on the whole from his treatment, and 
lost nothing of the least substantial importance. 
A subsequent editor, who held it to be the strict 
and stern duty of his tribe to give every ballad 
precisely as found, speaks of "the alembic estab- 
lished at Abbotsford for the purification of An- 
cient Song" (Motherwell's Minstrelsy ', 131). Of 



xxii Jamieson and Others 

versions printed verbatim from the lips of the 
people, Motherwell's book, Buchan's, and others, 
contain many specimens, not without interest ; 
but is it, for example, necessary to print a horse, 
in quarto, as " that bonnie apple-gray " (Mother- 
well, p. 237), because the line was so recited by 
" an old woman in Renfrewshire " ? 

Jamieson, in his Popular Ballads and Songs 
(2 vol. Edin. 1806), gave about fifteen ballads not 
before published (among them " Burd Helen," 
"William and May Margaret," "Young Bei- 
chan," " Alison Gross "), and versions of many 
others ; also " Childe Maurice," from the Percy 
folio. He collected many of his ballads himself, 
was furnished with others by friends, and took 
down about a dozen from the copious Mrs. 
Brown, whom he visited, and who afterwards 
sent him several more. Jamieson (who by the 
by had a vein of poetic genius) put in many 
stanzas ; see, for instance, his note to " Sweet 
Willie and Fair Annie " (i. 35), and to " The Twa 
Sisters " (i. 49). 

In 1808 came out Finlay's Ballads, containing 
different versions of several, nothing new of im- 
portance. By Laing, Sharpe, Maidment, some 
small contributions were made to this branch of 
literature. Kinloch (1827) gives some useful ver- 
sions, with a half a dozen minor ballads. Mo- 
therwell's Minstrelsy (1827), gives interesting 
oral versions of several, and a few, not of high 
class, hitherto unpublished, mixed up incongru- 
ously with modern pieces of no great merit. 



Buchan and Others xxiii 

Next comes Peter Buchan's Ancient Ballads 
and Songs of the North of Scotland, hitherto 
unpublished (2 vols. 1828). Here is much that 
is not to be found elsewhere ; and Peter's bal- 
lads are, we believe, more truly than any one 
else's (except Motherwell's few), real popular ver- 
sions ; at the same time they are, as a rule, rude, 
vulgar, and often silly. His volumes we have 
found very useful for collation with others, and 
have also gleaned from them the ballads of 
"Earl Mar's Daughter," "Young John," and 
"Brown Robyn's Confession." Of more "recent 
ballad-books (none of which we believe profess 
to add anything to our old store), we may men- 
tion Mr. Robert Chambers's volume, The Scottish 
Ballads (1829), who "associated what seemed 
[to him] the best stanzas and the best lines, nay, 
even the best words of the various copies ex- 
tant " ; and, moreover, added many stanzas of 
his own composition ; Mr. Whitelaw's Book of 
Scottish Ballads (1845), a close-printed volume 
of nearly 600 pages, crowded with modern com- 
positions, and also with spurious verses in the 
older ballads ; Mr. Bell's Ancient Poems, Bal- 
lads, and Songs, of the Peasantry of England 
(1857), which has no ballads of our kind; Pro- 
fessor Aytoun's Ballads of Scotland (2 vols. 1858, 
3d ed. 1 861), a large miscellaneous collection, 
chiefly from the books which we have already 
named, mixed with some Scottish poems not of 
the ballad class, edited on the principle of select- 
ing the best versions and fragments, and where 



xxiv Robin Hood 

necessary, " restoring " and " consolidating " the 
ballads in a complete form. This, which includes 
the insertion here and there of new lines and 
stanzas, is skilfully done. 

The largest collection of British ballads ever 
published has lately appeared in America, edited 
by Professor Child (8 vols. Philadelphia, 1857- 
59), who has done his work of amassment in an 
unpretending and gentlemanlike manner, copy- 
ing down from the collections a variety of ver- 
sions, adopting a quasi arrangement in " books " 
and appendices, and packing a large miscellane- 
ous heap of ballad things, good, bad, and indif- 
ferent, into eight trim volumes. 

XI. The Robin Hood Ballads must be consid- 
ered by themselves. Though doubtless there 
was some kind of foundation for the stories, 
Robin Hood is an inhabitant of the world of fic- 
tion, not of history. The general tradition runs 
thus : Robin Hood (in the reigns of King Henry 
II. and Richard I., say some; others put him 
later), being a man of noble family, for some rea- 
son outlawed, took to the woods of Yorkshire and 
Nottinghamshire, and was there joined by other 
" merry men," or bold fellows, the chief of them 
named Little John (he being very tall), Will 
Scathlock or Scarlett, George a. Green, pinner 
(poundkeeper) of Wakefield, Much, a miller's 
son, and a jolly friar, Tuck. Also with him lived 
in the green forest his sweetheart and wife, Maid 
Marian. Robin and his men shot the king's 
deer, robbed rich wayfarers in a gallant and 



Robin Hood Games xxv 

jovial fashion, with especial gusto if they were 
holy churchmen ; rescued many from prison and 
gallows, and were always courteous to women, 
and ready with help for the poor and weak. 

The Sheriff of Nottingham is ex officio the 
chief enemy of Robm and his men, and the re- 
lations between them are always those of a state 
of Avar. 

The Robin Hood Ballads form a separate 
group on the above general theme. They are 
some fifty in number, but include much repeti- 
tion both of phrase and of incident. A dozen or 
so describe Robin's falling in with some unknown 
wayfarer, fighting him, getting worsted, and final- 
ly telling his own name, and offering to enrol his 
antagonist in the famous company of Lincoln- 
Green Archers. 

Robin Hood has been a household word in 
England for five or six centuries ; and our litera- 
ture, from Piers Plowman (circa 1362) down- 
wards, has frequent allusions to "Jolly Robin," 
the " gentle outlaw," the " honest thief." His ad- 
ventures were the subject of several dramas ; 
Ben Jonson's unfinished pastoral play, The Sad 
Shepherd, is a tale of Robin Hood, and he was 
long a favorite hero in rustic revels and May 
games. " I came once myselfe," says Bishop 
Latimer (in his sixth sermon before King Edward 
VI.*), " to a place riding on a journey homeward 
from London, and I sent word overnight into 
the town that I would preach there in the morn- 
ing, because it was a holyday, and methought it 

* Ritson, i. xciv. 1st edit 



xxvi Robin Hood Fables 

was an holidayes worke ; the churche stode in 
my way, and I toke my horsse and my companye 
and went thither ; I thought I should have found 
a great companye in the churche, and when I 
came there the churche dore was faste locked. 
I tarried there half an houre and more, and at 
last the keye was founde ; and one of the par- 
ishe commes to me, and saves, Syr, thys ys a 
busye day with us, we cannot heare you ; it is 
Robyn Hoodes Daye. The parishe are gone 
abroad to gather for Robyn Hoode, I pray you 
let them not. I was fayne there to geve place to 
Robyn Hoode. I thought my rochet should 
have been regarded, though I were not ; but it 
woulde not serve, it was fayne to geve place to 
Robyn Hoodes Men. 

" It is no laughyng matter, my friendes, it is a 
wepynge matter, a heavy matter, under the pre- 
tence for gatherynge for Robyn Hoode, a tray- 
toure and a thefe, to put out a preacher, to have 
his office lesse estemed, to prefer Robyn Hoode 
before the mynystration of God's Word," &c. 

" The bishop grows scurrilous, 1 ' says Ritson in 
a note, taking up the cudgels for his favorite. 

Mock biographies of Robin were composed ; 
various dates, birthplaces, and " true names " as- 
signed to him ; he was made Earl of Hunting- 
don, his pedigree set forth in full, and opportu- 
nity given to the antiquaries for their favorite 
amusement of " winnowing three wechts o' nae- 
thing." The people gave his name to a bay on 
the Yorkshire coast, a hill near Gloucester, a 
well near Doncaster, and so on. 



Robin Hood Ballads xxvii 

The ballads were flying about the country, 
generation after generation, in the form of broad 
sheets and of little collections called " Garlands," 
till Ritson gathered them into his two volumes, 
published 1795. Industrious and irritable Joe 
(who described Mr. Gough of the Gentleman's 
Magazine as " the scurrilous and malignant edi- 
tor of that degraded publication ") * is long and 
angry in defence of Robin Hood's character, and 
particularly admires him for robbing "clerical 
drones or pious locusts." 

Among the oldest of the ballads, if not the old- 
est, are those eight connected ones, entitled, " A 
Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode," given in this vol- 
ume in its old form, with some slight correction of 
the lawless spelling (what good in spelling " high " 
four different ways in nine lines ?), and an abate- 
ment of the very strong swearing that was for- 
merly in fashion. " Robin Hood and the Monk " 
is another of the oldest, and also of the best ; but 
it is a long ballad, and we had not room for it. 

The Robin Hood Ballads, taken in the lump, 
being full of repetition, and often vulgar, or per- 
haps vulgarised in style, form a disappointing 
book, one of those which people buy for its name 

* Speaking of Bishop Percy's version of " Robin Hood and 
Guy of Gisborne," Ritson exclaims, " How an editor .... can 
justify such wanton, arbitrary, and even injudicious alterations 
in the publication of an ancient poem is beyond the conception 
of a person not habituated to ' liberties ' of this nature, nor des- 
titute of all manner of regard for truth and probity " {Robin 
Hood, vol. ii. at end). Furious Joe, by-the-bye, "hisself," if he 
took no liberties, made many a blunder. 



xxviii Robin Hood Ballads 

and neglect for its own sake. Each ballad had 
a popularity, in its own time and circle ; but 
taken together they have no vital coherency or 
continuity, and form a chance bundle, ticketed 
" Robin Hood," not, as one might hope from the 
usual way of talking, a series with some poetic 
movement and unity, a kind of rude ballad-his- 
tory. 

The set of eight connected ballads, " The Ly- 
tell Geste " is the most important section of Rob- 
in Hood song, and with those few others here 
presented will give our guests a good dish of law- 
less venison.* But if the ballads as a whole be 
tedious, the central figure, (whithersoever or how- 
soever come) is a clear and delightful one, of that 
small class of ideal personages to which Don 
Quixote and Robinson Crusoe also belong, — a 
bold, generous, and courteous Outlaw, famous in 
archery, living under greenwood tree with his 
merry-men, taking from the rich and giving to 
the poor, — a figure that, once lodged in the 
popular imagination, became an easy and fa- 
vorite subject for one rhymester after another. 

So let us into the forest-land of romance, and 
for a while "live like the old Robin Hood of 
England," — " fleet the time carelessly, as they 
did in the golden world." 

XII. The set of ballads in our own volume is, 

* " The Lytell Geste " is probably of the early part of the six- 
teenth century, and the older songs so often alluded to by early 
writers were doubtless remodelled in that age for the popular 
amusement, and have come to us in the form which they then 
got into ; the originals, except fragments, being now lost. 



Of this Book xx ix 

we believe, on the whole, much nearer to what 
the sung and recited ballads really were, at their 
best, than those which we have all accepted as 
The Old Ballads in the collections of Percy, 
Jamieson, Scott, and other editors. Many mod- 
ern interpolations, confessed or obvious, are now 
left out, greatly, if we mistake not, to the im- 
provement of the ballads. Where rearrange- 
ment, or selection from different copies (freely 
practised by preceding editors), appeared desira- 
ble, it has been done with diligent examination 
of a large mass of materials, and with the most 
punctilious caution ; and where the present edi- 
tor found occasion, which was rarely, to supply 
some link, repair some dropt stitch, he has dealt 
merely with things neutral, carefully avoiding to 
foist in any touches of pseudo-antique, whether 
in incident, language, or custom. A very few 
words are altered for manners' sake. Substan- 
tially, he has added nothing to the ballads. On 
the general effect of his labors he would be con- 
tent to leave the verdict either to half a dozen 
true knowers of English poetry (if so m:\ny could 
be found at one time), or else to any group of 
ordinary listeners, men, women, and children, 
who care to listen to the like, — such a group as 
ballads were made to please. Let, for example, 
"Earl Mar's Daughter" be read as here given, 
or " Young Redin," or " The Jolly Goshawk," or 
"Erin," or " Binnorie," or " Little Musgrave," or 
"Willy's Lady," and also those versions of the 
same which are printed in any other collection. 



xxx Our Vei'sions 

No doubt, however, those who have been bred up, 
as it were, in a particular form of a ballad will be 
apt, at least at first, to mislike any other form. One 
who has had impressed upon his youthful mind — 

It was in or about the Martinmas time 
When the green leaves were a-faliin', 

That Sir John Graeme in the west countrie 
Fell in love with Barbara Allen — 

may very likely be ill-content to find name of 
person and season of year altered, as they are in 
the following equally authentic version, — 

All in the merry month of May, 

When green buds they were swellin', 

Yuung Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay 
For love of Barbara Allen. 

But let him not, therefore, fall foul of the editor, 
who was bound to choose without prejudice be- 
tween autumn and spring, Jemmy Grove and Sir 
John. 

Most of the old ballads, as taken down from 
the mouths of nurses, peasants, itinerant musi- 
cians, or from broadsheets and ha'penny song- 
books, would be found corrupt, incoherent, in- 
complete ; and with here and there a striking 
bit, on the whole vexatious and tiresome to read. 
The various oral versions of a popular ballad 
obtainable throughout England, Scotland, and 
Ireland, are perhaps, even at this late day, prac- 
tically innumerable, — one as " authentic " as an- 
other. What then to do ? Various versions of 
half a dozen ballads would make a volume the 
size of this, — and a very worthless volume. The 



Editing xxxi 

right course has appeared to be this, to make 
one's self acquainted with all attainable versions 
of a ballad. Then (granting a " turn " for such 
things, to begin ; without which all were labor 
in vain), the editor may be supposed to get as 
much insight as may be had into the origin and 
character of the ballad in question ; he sees or 
surmises more or less as to the earliest version 
or versions, as to blunders, corruptions, altera- 
tions of every sort (national, local, personal), on 
the part of reciters ; he then comes to inves- 
tigate the doings of former editors, adopting 
thankfully what he finds good, correcting at 
points whereupon he has attained better informa- 
tion, rejecting (when for the worse) acknowledged 
or obvious interpolations or changes. He is to 
give it in one form — the best according to his 
judgment and feeling — in firm black and white, 
for critics, and for readers cultivated and simple ; 
the ballad itself is multiform, and even shifting, 
vapourlike, as one examines it ; the conditions 
of his task are therefore by no means easy ; and 
when the work is done with his utmost care and 
skill, nothing can be easier than to pull it to 
pieces and prove it "a thing of naught." So 
much, not in deprecation of criticism, but to sug- 
gest to any one inclined to be critical the diffi- 
culties attending a task which, the more you 
look into the nature of it, the more is it found to 
be without solid basis or definite boundaries. 
To make the narrative clear, and bring out for- 
cibly the dramatic points, is what every balladist 



xxxii Ballad-Minstrel 

aimed at ; the comparative success with which 
this is done tests the value of this version, or 
that, of a story. 

Take the present version of " Lamkin," where- 
in, as usual in our book, no addition is made to 
the traditionary matter. Collating the existing 
versions, each more or less altered and corrupt- 
ed, and viewing them by the light of imaginative 
truth, we have set forth the story (essentially 
unchanged) in a complete and consistent form. 
The incidents and the style remain unaltered. 
This is just what a good reciter or minstrel 
would do, and used to do. All the essentials 
remain ; but a better ballad is the result. Our 
Irish nurse's version (like several others) calls 
the murderer " Lamkin," and suggests that it 
was an epithet given to the cruel man, by rule 
of contrary. This much enhances the horror, 
although the hint for it may first have come by 
accident. 

In short, the present editor has dealt, as poet 
and critic, with a heap of confused materials, 
much as he would have dealt orally with the 
same materials, had fortune placed him in the 
world some three centuries ago in the condition 
of a ballad-minstrel (many worse conditions for 
a poet), singing in hall or cottage to groups of 
old and young. 

XIV. Without entering upon a discussion of 
the respective claims of England and Scotland 
in ballad-making, we merely say that there is in 
the present volume at least as much of English 



English and Scottish Ballads xxxiii 

as of Scottish produce. For old ballads, as a 
class, belong to both countries ; and though one 
here and there may be assigned to each, attempts 
to divide them are on the whole vain and useless. 
Many a ballad is found in an old Scottish form 
and in an old English form, as for instance, 
" The Twa Corbies " and " The Three Ravens ; " 
"Young Beichan" (several versions) ; "Hugh of 
Lincoln " (several) ; " Little Musgrave ; " " The 
Fair Flower of Northumberland ; " " Edom 
o' Gordon " and " Captain Car." Percy gave 
"Edom o' Gordon," printed in Glasgow, 1755, 
but "with several fine stanzas," "from a frag- 
ment of the same ballad in folio MS." " Uni- 
formity required that the additional stanzas sup- 
plied from that copy should be clothed in the 
Scottish orthography and idiom ; this has, there- 
fore, been attempted, though perhaps imperfect- 
ly" (i. 123) [an instructive little confession!]: 
Ritson in his Ancient Songs and Ballads (ii. 38) 
gives "an entire ancient copy, the undoubted 
original of the Scottish ballad, and one of the 
few specimens now extant of the genuine proper 
old English ballad" [though founded on a fact 
which happened in Scotland]. It is in a " col- 
lection in the Cotton Library, marked Vespasian 
A xxv. At the top of the original stands the 
word Ihus (Jesus), and at the end is Finis, Pma 
Willm Asheton clericu ; the name and quality, 
we may presume, of the original author. The 
MS. having received numerous alterations or 
corrections, all or most of which are evidently 
c 



xxxiv English and Scottish Versions 

for the better, they are here adopted as part of 
the text." Car or Ker, sent by Sir Adam Gor- 
don, burned Alex. Forbes's Castle of Towey in 
1571. 
This English ballad begins : — 

It befell at Martynmas, 

When wether waxed colde, 
Captaine Care saide to his men, 

We must go take a ho di. 

Some of the best stanzas of " Edom o' Cor- 
don " are here : — 

Then bespake the yongest sonn, 

That sat on the nurse's knee ; 
Sayth, mother gay, geve over your house, 

[The smoke] it smoldereth me. 

I would geve my gold, she saith, 

And so I wolde my fee, 
For a blaste of the "western " wind, 

To dryve the smoke from thee. 

But we do not find the pathetic death of the 
young daughter in the older ballad. 

The English version of " The Fair Flower 
of Northumberland," is by "the great ballade- 
maker T. D. or Thomas Deloney " ; and though 
vulgarly handled, has in its form recognizably 
the smack of old ballad literature : — 

It was a knight, in Scotland born, 
{Follow, my love, come over the strand, ) 

Was taken prisoner and left forlorn, 

Even by the good Earl of Northumberland. 

And as in sorrow thus he lay, 

[Follow, my love, come over the strand,) 

The Earl's sweet daughter walks that way, 
And she 's the fair flower of Northumberland. 



Irish Versions xxxv 

Kinloch gives a Scottish version of the same 
story, " The Provost's Dochter," with this bur- 
den : — 

The Provost's dochter went out a walking, 

A may^s love whiles is easy ivon ; 
She heard a fair prisoner making her meane [moan], 

And she was the fair flow'r o' Northumberland. 

Deloney's ballad ends : — 

All you fair maidens, be warned by me, 
(Follow, my love, come over the strand,) 

Scots never were true, and never will be, 
To lord, nor lady, nor fair England. " 

But the Scottish version has it : — 

She 's na the first that the Scots hae beguil'd, 
And she 's still the flow'r o' Northumberland. 

XV. The editor of this book, moved by a 
natural affection for ballads, has not only made 
himself acquainted with all ballads and ballad 
literature that came within his reach, but might 
perhaps, if he chose, set up some claim to be 
considered as an original collector in a small 
way, — Ireland being his principal field. Ireland 
would certainly have contributed her full share 
to our general store of ballads, but for one suf- 
ficient reason, — her tongue was Keltic ; her na- 
tive popular songs and ballads lie hid in that 
little-known and expiring language. Many of 
the English and Scottish ballads, however, were 
carried over to the neighboring island, and are 
still borne in the memory of humble people. 
Unable here to discuss this matter of Anglo- 



xxxvi The Ballads of our Day 

Hibernian versions, we may mention as speci- 
mens those of " Binnorie " and " Lamkin," sung 
(among other ballads) by a nurse in the family 
of a relative of ours in Ireland. They are chiefly 
remarkable for corruption of language and neg- 
lect of rhyme. " Lamkin " begins thus : — 

As my lord and my lady were out walking one day. 
Says n\y lord to my lady, " Beware of Lamkin !" 
" O why should I fear him, or any such man, 
When my doors are well barr'd and my windows well pinn'd ? 
When my doors," &c. 

But there are some good points : — 

O keep your gold and silver, it will do you some good, 
It will buy you a coffin when you are dead. 
There 's blood in the kitchen, and blood in the hall, 
And the young Mayor of England lies dead by the wall. 

The version of " Binnorie," called " Sister, dear 
Sister," and sung to a peculiar and beautiful air, 
begins : — 

Sister, dear sister, where shall we go play ? 

Cold blows the wind, and the wind bloivs low, 
We shall go to the salt sea's brim, 

And the wind blows cheerily around us, High ho ! 

The editor has also a large collection of the bal- 
lads and songs, printed on slips of whity-brown 
paper, sold by hawkers and professional ballad- 
singers throughout Ireland at the present day. 
Among these, oddly enough, he does not recol- 
lect one version of any of the good British bal- 
lads. An account of the collection may be found 
in a paper published some years ago in House- 
hold Words, entitled " Irish Ballad-Singers and 



Tragic Incidents rightly treated xxxvii 

Irish Ballads." Moreover, he has visited several 
of the chief ballad printing-offices, —in Dublin, 
in Belfast, and lately in Seven Dials. In the 
latter place he found two of the old ballads, and 
only two, still in the market, — the usual version 
of " Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor," and a very 
corrupt version of " Barbara Allen," beginning, 

In Reading town where I was born, 
A fair maid there was dwelling, 

I picked her out to be my wife, 
Her name was Barbara Allen. 

XVI. To sum up, in regard to the ballads 
here presented, — they are narrative poems of 
an old, simple kind, modified in form in trans- 
mission to our own day. They have no histori- 
cal value, except in so far as they convey a 
general impression of a state of society very dif- 
ferent from ours in externals, being hot, rude, 
violent, and picturesque. Below the surface, per- 
haps, the difference is not so great. The same 
passions and motives show themselves in human 
history, with their outward fashion changed, in 
all places and at all times. 

The old ballads abound in "strong situa- 
tions " ; they are full of crime, of " battle, mur- 
der, and sudden death." Such is the very sub- 
stance of which the best of them are wrought ; 
and those who are unwilling to look on the tragic 
side of human life must turn their eyes elsewhere. 
Two or three fine ballads have been omitted as 
too painful or horrible for our audience. Many 
gloomy stories remain, but all told with simple 



xxxviii Love-Stories — Faerie 

seriousness and right feeling. When sin and 
crime are spoken of, it is with due gravity. The 
dignity of human nature is upheld. In the vari- 
eties of character and fortune, some facts present 
themselves which are by general consent deemed 
unsuitable for literary treatment, and they who 
deal with such, however well, narrow their audi- 
ence from millions to units ; but there are many 
incidents and combinations of a tragical kind of 
which it is wholesome to speak, and whereof no 
one has so good a right to speak as the poet, — 
provided he speaks rightly. We do well for our 
humanity by looking at the darker incidents of 
life, in their turn, in the mirror of art, when there 
presented with a true sense of their solemn and 
fathomless import. There is nothing finer in 
literature, in the same compass, than " Childe 
Maurice," " Little Musgrave," " Clerk Saun- 
ders," " Fine Flowers in the Valley," " Young 
Redin," " Childe Vyet," and " Glasgerion." But 
all is not darkness and tempest in this region of 
song ; gay stories of true love with a happy end- 
ing are many ; and they who love enchantments, 
and to be borne off into fairy-land, may have 
their wish at the turning of a leaf. 

And now the editor sends forth the little book, 
with the feeling that he has done what in him lay 
to make it generally acceptable. 





CONTENTS 



PAGE 



i. THOMAS THE RHYMER i 

Thomas is carried off by the Fairy Queen, and remains 
in Elfland seven years. 

2. THE TWA CORBIES 5 

They find the corpse of a knight. 

3. HYND HORN 6 

He, having troth-plight from the king's daughter, is 
exiled seven years ; returns in disguise on the day of 
her wedding to another, and wins her after all. 

4. THE BANKS O' YARROW 11 

Two brothers-in-law, being at odds, agree to fight a 
duel on the banks of Yarrow River, but one of the com- 
batants puts armed men in ambush and treacherously 
slays the other. The traitor's sister, wife of the slain 
man, comes to this bloody field. 

5. EARL MAR'S DAUGHTER 14 

She finds a dove, which is an enchanted prince, and her 
lover ; and at last he bears her away to his mother's 
castle. 

6. BROWN ADAM 21 

His punishment of one who insulted his wife. 



xl Contents 

7. EDOM O' GORDON 23 

How he burned a castle, with the lady and her children 
therein. 

8. YOUNG WATERS 29 

The king, being causelessly jealous of Young Waters, 
procures his execution. 

9. THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL . . .32 

This widow, hearing her three sons are lost at sea, 
passionately prays that the storm may never cease till 
they come back to her. One night, at Martinmas, they 
come home ; but at cock-crow depart again. 

10. THE DEATH OF PARCY REED ... 34 

Going a-hunting on the Border, he is attacked by his 
enemies, and slain. 

11. "WALY, WALY" . . . . . . .42 

Sad song of a forsaken lady. 

12. THE LAIRD O' DRUM 43 

How he marries a peasant girl. 

13. ANNAN WATER 47 

A lover rides to his tryst on a night of storm and flood. 

14. THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT . . 49 

With the fight between Percy and Douglas and their 
men. 

15. BESSIE BELL AND MARY GRAY ... 60 

Two maidens who built a hut on a hillside, to escape 
the pestilence ; but in vain. 

16. SIR PATRI-CK SPENS 61 

He is sent by the king of Scotland on a voyage to Nor- 
way, and wrecked on his way home. 

17. KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CAN- 

TERBURY 65 

The King poses the Abbot with three questions, but 
the Abbot's Shepherd solves them. 



Contents xli 

1 8. THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY 69 

Lord William, stealing away Lady Margaret Douglas, 
is pursued by her father and her two brothers, with 
whom he fights, and leaves them lying dead or sore 
wounded. But Lord William himself is hurt, and no 
sooner gains his mother's house than he lies down to 
die, and before the morning his lady also is dead. 

19. KEMPION 73 

A fair maiden being transformed by a sorceress into the 
shape of a dreadful serpent, is released by three kisses 
from her lover. 

20. JOHNNIE OF BRAIDISLEE . 77 

A-hunting, he is attacked by seven foresters, and car- 
ried home dead to his mother. 

ax. THE BIRTH OF ROBIN HOOD. . • . .81 
How he was born in the green-wood. 

22. FAIR ANNIE 84 

How she was forced to welcome a new bride to her 
lord's castle ; yet all happened well at last. 

23. CHILDE MAURICE 90 

He sends a message to John Stewart's wife to meet him 
in the wood ; but thither goes John Stewart himself and 
slays Childe Maurice through jealousy, not knowing 
him to be in truth the lady's only son. 

24. BROWN ROBYN'S CONFESSION . . .94 

How it saved him, though wicked, when thrown into 
the sea. 

25. THE JOLLY GOSHAWK . . . . .96 

The bird brings a love-letter to the maiden ; who, feign- 
ing death by a sleeping draught, is carried to the fourth 
kirk in Scotland, and there met and rescued by her 
lover. 

26. ALISON GROSS 102 

A wicked old Witch turns a youth into a serpent, and 
he is released by the Queen of the Fairies. 



xlii Contents 

27. JOHNNIE ARMSTRONG 104 

Being a noted Border Freebooter, he is summoned by 
the King to Edinburgh, and there treacherously slain, 
with his men. 

28. KATHARINE JANFARIE 108 

On the wedding-day, her Scottish lover carries her off 
from her English bridegroom. 

29. ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE WIDOW'S 

THREE SONS . . . . . . .111 

About to be hanged at Nottingham, they are rescued 
by Robin Hood, disguised as a beggarman. 

30. FAIR ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN . . .116 

Sailing to her love Lord Gregory's castle, his mother, 
with false words, refuses to admit her ; whereupon re- 
embarking, she is drowned. 



31. A LYKE-WAKE DIRGE I22 

An old song, fit to be sung in watching the dead. 

32. ETIN THE FORESTER 124 

Lady Margaret, after living seven years in the forest, 
is again received by her father, and her husband and 
children are taken into his favor. 

33. THE LAWLANDS O' HOLLAND . . .132 

One laments her sweetheart, drowned on a voyage to 
Holland. 

34. THE TWA SISTERS OF BINNORIE . . 133 

One sister, through jealousy, pushes the other into the 
water ; who is there drowned, and her body afterwards 
caught in the mill-dam. 

35. GLENLOGIE 137 

How Bonnie Jean falls in love with him. 

36. THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD . . 130 

A little brother and sister, being left to the guardian- 
ship of their uncle, an unjust man, lose their lives. 



Contents xliii 

37. YOUNG BEICHAN 145 

Being cast into prison in paynim-land, he is set free 
by a Moor's fair daughter, they pledging troth to one 
another. She lovingly follows him to England, and 
they are wedded at last. 

38. CLERK SAUNDERS 152 

Clerk Saunders (so called as being a learned young 
knight) is slain in his sweetheart's arms; and after- 
wards his ghost appears to her. 

39. THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF ISLINGTON 157 

Her true lover, returning from a distance to seek her, 
meets her on the road, but at first knows her not. 

40. A LYTELL GESTE OF ROBYN HODE 

The Firste Fytte 160 

Robin lends a poor Knight four hundred pounds 

The Seconde Fytte 173 

The Knight releases his pawned lands ; and after- 
wards, going to repay Robin Hood, succors a yeoman 
for Robin's sake. 

The Thyrde Fytte 184 

Little John goes into the service of the Sheriff, robs 
his house, and entices him into the hands of Robin 
Hood. 

The Fourth Fytte 194 

Robin reimburses himself of his loan by means of a 
Monk of St. Mary's Abbey, and the Knight is free. 

The Fyfth Fytte 206 

How Robin Hood went to a public shooting at Not- 
tingham, was attacked by the Sheriff, and received 
into Sir Richard's castle. 

The Syxte Fytte 212 

The Sheriff casts the Knight into prison, and Robin 
rescues him. 

The Seventh Fytte 218 

The King visits Robin Hood. 



xliv Contents 

The Eighth Fytte . 229 

Robin enters the King's service, but after a time re- 
turns to the greenwood, where he abides till his death. 

41. BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL . . .236 

He rode forth gallantly, but never returned home. 

42. LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ELLINOR . 237 

He, by advice of friends, marries the Brown Girl ; 
who, Fair Ellinor coming to the wedding, there stabs 
her, and is herself slain by Lord Thomas. 

43. HUGH OF LINCOLN 240 

Showing how a wicked Jew's Daughter murdered this 
child. 

44. BARBARA ALLEN'S CRUELTY . . .243 

Her hard-heartedness to her lover, until he died for her 
sake ; and her grief afterwards. 

45. MAY COLVIN " . .245 

Wiled from home by a false knight, who would drown 
her, she pushes him into the sea, and returns home. 

46. "EDWARD, EDWARD" 248 

The young man has killed his father, he casts off his 
wife and children and forsakes his estates, and he 
leaves his curse upon his mother for her evil advice. 

47. THE OUTLAW MURRAY 250 

The King of Scotland coming with a force to Ettrick 
Forest, summons Murray and his men to submit to 
the royal authority; which, after a parley, they do, 
and are taken into favor. 

48. THE CRUEL BROTHER 262 

Misliking his sister's marriage, he stabs her, so that 
she dies. 

49. LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND THE LADY BAR- 

NARD 266 

Both, being guilty, are slain by Lord Barnard. 



Contents xlv 

5 0. KINMONT WILLIE . .... 271 

A Scottish Borderer, who, being imprisoned by the 
English in Carlisle Castle, is by the Laird of Buc- 
cleuch forcibly released. 

51. FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY . . 279 

A ballad, with this burden, treating of a mother's 
cruelty. 

52. ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH AND BURIAL . 280 

Being ill, Robin goes for aid to Kirkley nunnery ; 
where the Abbess, though his kinswoman, treacher- 
ously lets him bleed to death. He shoots his last 
arrow, and where it falls his grave is made. 

53. YOUNG REDIN 284 

Telling his sweetheart that he loves another far better, 
she finds means to kill him and throws his body into 
the river, where it is found, and she is punished for 
her crime. 

54. THE FRAY O' SUPORT . . . . . 289 

The outcry of an English Border-woman, whose cattle 
have been driven off by moss-troopers. 

55. THE SHIP O' THE FIEND .... 293 

A woman, first faithless to her lover, and then to her 
husband and child, is supernaturally punished. 

56. LAMKIN 297 

The cruel " Lamkin," aided by a wicked nurse, gets 
into Lord Weare's castle and murders Lady Weare 
and her little son. 

57. THE FROLICKSOME DUKE ; OR, THE TINK- 

ER'S GOOD FORTUNE 302 

The Tinker, carried into the palace while asleep, is per- 
suaded to think himself a great Lord. 

58. CHILDE VYET, OR THE BROTHERS . . 305 

Lady Maisry, loving Childe Vyet, is forced to marry 
his elder brother Lord Ingram, and a sudden fate falls 
upon the three. 



xlvi Contents 

59. THE BARON OF BRACKLEY .... 310 

His unloving wife taunts him into fighting against 
odds, and rejoices when he is killed. 

60. BURD ELLEN . . . . . . . . .313 

In a page's dress she painfully follows her lover ; his 
cruelty, and his relentment. 

61. THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW . 318 

Her home being broken into and her husband slain. 

62. WILLY'S LADY 319 

Willy's young wife is placed under a spell by her 
wicked mother-in-law ; but at length released. 

63. HUGHIE GRAHAM 323 

A Borderer, he is hanged at Carlisle for stealing the 
Bishop's mare. 

64. LORD THOMAS AND FAIR ANNET . . 325 

She coming to Lord Thomas's wedding, is stabbed, 
through jealousy, by his nut-brown bride, who there- 
upon is slain by Lord Thomas, and he afterwards kills 
himself. 

65. LIZIE LINDSAY 330 

She goes from Edinburgh to the Highlands with 
young Donald, her lover. 

66. SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST .... 334 

His ghost comes to Margaret to ask back a plighted 
troth, and she follows it to the churchyard. 

67. LADY ELSPAT 337 

Her mother, on false pretence, imprisons the lover of 
Lady Elspat, who bears witness for him and procures 
his releasement. 

68. WILLIE AND MAY MARGARET, OR THE 

WATER OF CLYDE 339 

Willie, against his mother's command, crosses the 
Clyde to visit May Margaret, and on returning is 
drowned. 



Contents xlvii 

69. THE DUKE OF GORDON'S DAUGHTER . 345 

She marries Captain Ogilvie, who is sent abroad, but 
returns to claim his wife. 

70. FAIR MARGARET'S MISFORTUNES . . 350 

William, whom she loves, marrying another woman, 
Fair Margaret dies of grief, and her ghost comes to 
their bedside. William goes to see Fair Margaret's 
corpse, and he too dies of sorrow. 

71. LORD RONALD 353 

He comes home to his mother from his sweetheart's 
house, poisoned. 

72. YOUNG JOHN AND HIS TRUE SWEET- 

HEART 354 

He treats her harshly, but through her faithfulness his 
heart is softened. 

73. HELEN OF KIRKCONNELL .... 356 

Her lover laments the death of fair Helen, who re- 
ceived the wound directed against him. 

74. GLASGERION 358 

A famous young Harper, of noble birth, wins the 
heart of the king's daughter ; but, by the treachery 
of his servant, their love comes to a sad and sudden 
end. 

75. THE GARDENER 363 

A fanciful short ballad of wooing. 

76. TAMLANE 364 

He is stolen by the Queen of the Fairies ; and at length 
released from Elfland by Lady Janet. 

Notes 373 

Index of First Lines 395 





&^ 



THE BALLAD BOOK 



THOMAS THE RHYMER 



TRUE Thomas lay on Huntley bank ; 
A ferlie spied he wi' his ee ; 
There he saw a lady bright 

Come riding doun by the Eildon Tree. 



Her skirt was o' the grass-green silk, 
Her mantle o' the velvet fine ; 

At ilka tett o' her horse's mane 
Hung fifty siller bells and nine. 



True Thomas he pu'd aff his cap, 
And louted low doun on his knee : 

11 Hail to thee, Mary, Queen of Heaven ! 
For thy peer on earth could never be." 



1 ferlie, " marvel. 
I 



"tett," tassel. 



The Ballad Book 

4 
" O no, O no, Thomas," she said, 

" That name does not belong to me ; 
I 'm but the Queen o' fair Elfland, 

That hither have come to visit thee. 

5 

" Harp and carp, Thomas," she said ; 

" Harp and carp along wi' me ; 
And if ye dare to kiss my lips, 

Sure of your body I shall be." 

6 

"Betide me weal, betide me woe, 
That weird shall never daunten me. " 

Syne he has kissed her on the lips, 
All underneath the Eildon Tree. 

7 
" Now ye maun go wi* me," she said, 

1 ' Now, Thomas, ye maun go wi' me ; 
And ye maun serve me seven years, 

Through weal or woe as may chance to be." 



She 's mounted on her milk-white steed, 
And she 's ta'en Thomas up behind ; 

And aye, whene'er her bridle rang, 
The steed gaed swifter than the wind. 

9 

O they rade on, and farther on, 

The steed gaed swifter than the wind.; 

Until they reached a desert wide, 
And living land was left behind. 

"Harp and carp," talk merrily and familiarly ( 
"weird," doom. 



Thomas the Rhymer 3 

10 
"Now, Thomas, light doun, light doun," she said, 

" And lean your head upon my knee ; 
Abide ye there a little space, 

And I will show you ferlies three. 

11 

' ' O see ye not yon narrow road, 

So thick beset wi' thorns and briers ? 

That is the Path of Righteousness, 
Though after it but few inquires. 

12 

" And see ye not yon braid, braid road, 

That lies across the lily leven ? 
That is the Path of Wickedness, 

Though some call it the road to Heaven. 

13 
"And see ye not yon bonny road 

That winds about the ferny brae ? 
That is the road to fair Elfland, 

Where thou and I this night maun gae. 

14 
"But, Thomas, ye sail hand your tongue, 

Whatever ye may hear or see ; 
For speak ye word in Elfin-land, 

Ye '11 ne'er win back to your ain countrie." 

15 

O they rade on, and farther on, 

And they waded rivers abune the knee ; 

And they saw neither sun nor moon, 
But they heard the roaring of a sea. 

" leven," lawn. 



The Ballad Book 

16 

It was mirk, mirk night, there was nae starlight, 
They waded through red blude to the knee ; 

For a' the blude that 's shed on the earth 
Rins through the springs o' that countrie. 

17 
Syne they came to a garden green, 

And she pu'd an apple frae a tree : 
"Take this for thy wages, Thomas," she said ; 

" It will give thee the tongue that can never lee. " 

18 

" My tongue is my am," then Thomas he said ; 

" A gudely gift ye wad gie to me ! 
I neither dought to buy or sell 

At fair or tryst where I might be. 

19 

" I dought neither speak to prince or peer, 
Nor ask of grace from fair ladye ! " — 

' ' Now haud thy peace, Thomas, " she said, 
" For as I say, so must it be." 

20 
He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, 

And a pair o' shoon of the velvet green ; 
And till seven years were come and gane, 

True Thomas on earth was never seen. 

"dought," could. 




The Twa Corbies 



THE TWA CORBIES 

i 

AS I was walking all alane, 
I heard twa corbies making a mane : 
The tane unto the tither did say, 
" Whar sail we gang and dine the day ? " 



"In behint yon auld fail dyke, 

I wot there lies a new-slain knight ; 

And naebody kens that he lies there 

But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair. 

3 
"His hound is to the hunting gane, 
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, 
His lady 's ta'en anither mate, 
Sae we may mak' our dinner sweet. 

4 
* £ Ye '11 sit on his white hause-bane, 
And I '11 pike out his bonny blue e'en ; 
\W ae lock o' his gowden hair 
We '11 theek our nest when it grows bare. 

5 
" Mony 's the one for him makes mane, 
But nane sail ken whar he is gane. 
O'er his white banes, when they are bare, 
The wind sail blaw forevermair." 

'corbies," ravens, "fail," turf, sod. " hause," neck. 
" theek," thatch. 



The Ballad Book 



ill 



HYND HORN 



NEAR the King's court was a young child born, 
With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And his name it was called Young Hynd Horn, 
And the birk and the br 00711 blooms bonnie. 

2 

Seven lang years he served the King, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And it 's a' for the sake o' his daughter Jean, 

And the bii'k and the broom blooms bonnie. 

3 

The King an angry man was he, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
He sent Young Hynd Horn to the sea, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

4 

O his love gave him a gay gold ring, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
With three shining diamonds set therein, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

5 
"As lang as these diamonds keep their hue, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian, 
Ye '11 know I am a lover true, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 



Hynd Horn 

6 
"But when your ring turns pale and wan, 

With a hey lillelii and a how lo la7t, 
Then I 'm in love with another man, 

And the birk and the broo?n blooms bonnie." 

7 
He 's gone to the sea and far away, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And he 's stayed for seven lang years and a day, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie: 



Seven lang years by land arid sea, 
With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 

And he 's aften looked how his ring may be, 
And the birk and the broom blooins bonnie. 

9 

One day when he looked this ring upon, 
With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian, 

The shining diamonds were pale and wan, 
And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

io 

He hoisted sails, and hame cam' he, 
With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 

Hame unto his ain countrie, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

II 

He 's left the sea and he 's come to land, 
With a hey lillehi aiid a how lo Ian ; 

And the first he met was an auld beggar-man, 
And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 



The Ballad Book 

12 

" What news, what news, my silly auld man? 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
For it 's seven lang years since I saw this land, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie." 

13 

"No news, no news," doth the beggar-man say, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
" But our King's ae daughter she *s wedded to-day, 
And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. " 

" Wilt thou give to me thy begging coat ? 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And I '11 give to thee my scarlet cloak, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

15 
" Give me your auld pike-staff, and hat, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And ye sail be right weel paid for that, 

And the birk and the broo?n blooms bonnie" 

16 

The auld beggar-man cast off his coat, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian, 
And he 's ta'en up the scarlet cloak, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

17 

He 's gi'en him his auld pike-staff and hat, 
With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 

And he was right weel paid for that, 

A?id the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 



Hynd Horn 

18 

The auld beggar-man was bound for the mill, 
With a hey lillehi and a how lo Ian ; 

But Young Hynd Horn for the King's ain hall, 
And the birk and the broo??i blooms bonnie. 

19 
When he came to the King's ain gate, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian, 
He asked a drink for Young Hynd Horn's sake, 

Atid the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

20 
These news unto the bonny bride cam', 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian, 
That at the gate there stands an auld man, 

A nd the birk and the broom blooms bonnie 

21 
There stands an auld man at the King's gate, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
He asketh a drink for Young Hynd Horn's sake, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

22 
The Bride cam' tripping down the stair, 

With a hey lillehc and a how lo Ian ; 
The combs o' fine goud in her hair, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie ; 

23 

A cup o' the red wine in her hand, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And that she gave to the beggar-man, 
' And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 



o The Ballad Book 

24 
Out o' the cup he drank the wine, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And into the cup he dropt the ring, 

And the birk and the broom blooms 



25 
" O gat thou this by sea or by land ? 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian. 
Or gat thou it aff a dead man's hand ? 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie? 

26 

c ' I gat it neither by sea nor land, 
With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian, 

Nor gat I it from a dead man's hand, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 

27 
" But I gat it at my wooing gay, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian ; 
And I gie it to you on your wedding-day, 

And the birk and the broom blooms bomiie. 

28 
' ' I '11 cast aside my satin goun, 

With a hey lillelu and a how lo Ian. 
And I '11 follow you frae toun to toun, 

A?id the birk and the brooin blooms bonnie. 

29 
" 1 11 tak' the fine goud frae my hair, 

With a hey lilleht and a how lo Ian, 
And follow you forevermair, 

A7id the birk and the broom blooms bonnieS 



The Banks <? Yarrow 

30 

He let his cloutie cloak doun fa', 

With a hey lillehi and a how lo Ian ; 

Young Hynd Horn shone above them a', 
And the birk and the broom blooms bojmie, 

31 

The bridegroom thought he had her wed, 
With a hey lillehi and a how lo Ian ; 

But she is Young Hynd Horn's instead, 
And the birk and the broom blooms bonnie. 



IV 

THE BANKS O' YARROW. 



LATE at e'en, drinking the wine, 
And ere they paid the lawing, 
They set a combat them between, 
To fight it in the dawing. 

2 
" What though ye be my sister's lord, 

We '11 cross our swords to-morrow. " 
" What though my wife your sister be, 

I '11 meet ye then on Yarrow." 

3 

" O stay at hame, my ain gude lord ! 

O stay, my ain dear marrow ! 
My cruel brither will you betray 

On the dowie banks o' Yarrow/' 

' lawing," reckoning. " marrow " (married), husband or wife. 
" dowie," doleful. 



The Ballad Book 

4 
" O fare ye weel, my lady dear ! 

And put aside your sorrow ; 
For if I gae, I '11 sune return 

Frae the bonny banks o' Yarrow." 

5 
She kiss'd his cheek, she kaim'd his hair, 

As oft she 'd dune before, O ; 
She belted him wi' his gude brand, 

And he 's awa' to Yarrow. 

6 

When he gaed up the Tennies bank, 

As he gaed mony a morrow, 
Nine armed men lay in a den, 

On the dowie braes o* Yarrow. 

7 
" O come ye here to hunt or hawk 

The bonny Forest thorough ? 
Or come ye here to wield your brand 

Upon the banks o' Yarrow?" 



fi I come not here to hunt or hawk, 
As oft I Ve dune before, O, 

But I come here to wield my brand 
Upon the banks o' Yarrow. 

9 

" If ye attack me nine to ane, 

That God may send ye sorrow ! — 

Yet will I fight while stand I may, 
On the bonny banks o' Yarrow. " 



' The Banks o' Yarrow 

10 

Two has he hurt, and three has slain, 
On the bloody braes o' Yarrow ; 

But the stubborn knight crept in behind, 
And pierced his body thorough. 

II 

" Gae hame, gae hame, you blither John, 
And tell your sister sorrow, — 

To come and lift, her leafu' lord 
On the dowie banks o' Yarrow." 

12 

Her brither John gaed ower yon hill, 

As oft he M dune before, O ; 
There he met his sister dear, 

Cam' rinnin' fast to Yarrow. 

13 

"I dreamt a dream last night," she says, 

" I wish it binna sorrow ; 
I dreamt I pu'd the heather green 

Wi J my true love on Yarrow." 

14 
"I'll read your dream, sister/' he says, 

" 1 11 read it into sorrow ; 
Ye 're bidden go take up your love, 

He's sleeping sound on Yarrow/' 

15 

She 's torn the ribbons frae her head 
That were baith braid and narrow ; 

She 's kilted up her lang claithing, 
And she 's awa' to Yarrow. 

" leafu V' lawful. 



14 The Ballad Book 

16 

She 's ta'en him in her arms twa, 
And gi'en him kisses thorough ; 

She sought to bind his mony wounds, 
But he lay dead on Yarrow. 

*7 

" O haud your tongue/' her father says, 
" And let be a' your sorrow ; 

I '11 wed you to a better lord 
Than him ye lost on Yarrow." 

18 
"0 haud your tongue, father," she says, 

' ' Far warse^ye mak' my sorrow ; 
A better lord could never be 

Than him that lies on Yarrow." 

19 

She kissed his lips, she kaim'd his hair, 
As oft she 'd dune before, O ; 

And there wi' grief her heart did break, 
Upon the banks o' Yarrow. 



EARL MAR'S DAUGHTER 



IT was in till a pleasant time, 
Upon a simmer's day, 
The noble Earl Mar's daughter 
Went forth to sport and play. 



Earl Mar's Daughter 

2 
And as she played and sported 

Below a green aik tree, 
There she saw a sprightly doo 

Set on a branch sae hie. 

3 

" O Coo-my-doo, my love sae true, 

If ye '11 come doun to me, 
Ye 'se hae a cage o' gude red goud 

Instead o' simple tree. 

4 

" I '11 tak' ye hame and pet ye weel, 

Within my bower and ha* ; 
I '11 gar ye shine as fair a bird 

As ony o' them a'." 

5 

And she had nae these words weel spoke, 
Nor yet these words weel said, 

Till Coo-my-doo flew frae the branch, 
And lighted on her head. 

6 

Then she has brought this pretty bird 

Hame to her bower and ha', 
And made him shine as fair a bird 

As ony o' them a\ 

7 
When day was gane, and night was come, 

About the evening-tide, 
This lady spied a bonny youth 
Stand straight up by her side. 
" doo," dove. 



1 6 The Ballad Book 



6 ' Now whence come ye, young man, " she said, 

" To put me into fear ? 
My door was bolted right secure, 

And what way cam' ye here ? " 

9 

"O haud your tongue, my lady fair, 

Lat a' your folly be ; 
Mind ye not o' your turtle-doo 

Ye coaxed from aff the tree ? " 

io 

" O wha are ye, young man ? " she said, 
" What country come ye frae ? " 

" I flew across the sea," he said, 
"'Twas but this verra day. 

II 

"My mither is a queen," he says, 

" Likewise of magic skill ; 
'Twas she that turned me in a doo, 

To fly where'er I will. 

12 

"And it was but this verra day 

That I cam' ower the sea : 
I loved you at a single look ; 

With you I '11 live and dee." 

13 

" O Coo-my-doo, my love sae true, 

Nae mair frae me ye'se gae." 
' ' That 's never my intent, my love ; 

As ye said, it shall be sae." 



Earl Mar's Daughter ij 

14 
There he has lived in bower wi' her, 

For sax lang years and ane ; 
Till sax young sons to him she bare, 

And the seventh she 's brought hame. 

15 

But aye, as soon 's a child was born, 

He carried them away, 
And brought them to his mither's care, 

As fast as he could fly. 

16 

Thus he has stayed in bower wi' her 
For seven lang years and mair ; 

Till there cam' a lord o' hie renown 
To court that lady fair. 

17 

But still his proffer she refused, 

And a' his presents too ; 
Says, " I 'm content to live alone 

Wi' my bird Coo-my-doo." 

18 

Her father sware an angry oath, 

He sware it wi' ill-will ; 
4< To-morrow, ere I eat or drink, 

That bird I '11 surely kill." 

19 

The bird was sitting in his cage, 

And heard what he did say ; 
He jumped upon the window-sill : 

"'Tis time I was away." 
2 



The Ballad Book 



Then Coo-my-doo took flight and flew 

Beyond the raging sea, 
And lighted at his mither's castle, 

Upon a tower sae hie. 

2r 

The Queen his mither was walking out, 

To see what she could see,- 
And there she saw her darling son 

Set on the tower sae hie. 

22 

" Get dancers here to dance," she said, 
" And minstrels for to play ; 

For here *s my dear son Florentine 
Come back wi' me to stay." 

23 
"Get nae dancers to dance, mither, 

Nor minstrels for to play ; 
For the mither o' my seven sons, 

The morn 's her wedding-day. " 

24 
" Now tell me, dear son Florentine, 

O tell, and tell me true ; 
Tell me this day, without delay, 

What sail I do for you?" 

25 
"Instead of dancers to dance, mither, 

Or minstrels for to play, 
Turn four-and-twenty well-wight men, 
Like storks, in feathers gray ; 
"well-wight," very strong. 



Earl Mar's Daughter 19 

26 
"My seven sons in seven swans, 

Aboon their heads to flee ; 
And I mysell a gay goshawk, 

A bird o' high degree." 

27 
Then, sighing, said the Queen to hersell, 

"That thing's too high for me ! " 
But she applied to an auld woman, 

Who had mair skill than she. 

28 
Instead o' dancers to dance a dance, 

Or minstrels for to play, 
Were four and twenty well-wight men 

Turned birds o' feathers gray ; 

29 
Her seven sons in seven swans, 

Aboon their heads to flee ; 
And he himself a gay goshawk, 

A bird o' high degree. 

30 

This flock of birds took flight and flew 

Beyond the raging sea ; 
They landed near the Earl Mar's castle, 

Took shelter in every tree. 

31 

They were a flock o' pretty birds, 

Right wondrous to be seen ; 
The weddin'eers they looked at them 

Whilst walking on the °reen. 



20 The Ballad Book 

32 
These birds flew up frae bush and tree, 

And lighted on the ha' ; 
And, when the wedding-train cam' forth, 

Flew down amang them a\ 

33 
The storks they seized the boldest men, 

That they could not fight or flee ; 
The swans they bound the bridegroom fast 

Unto a green aik-tree. 

34 
They flew around the bride-maidens, 

Around the bride's own head ; 
And, wi' the twinkling o' an ee, 

The bride and they were fled. 

35 
There 's ancient men at weddings been 

For eighty years or more ; 
But siccan a curious w T edding-day 

They never saw before. 

36 

For naething could the company do, 
Nor naething could they say ; 

But they saw a flock o' pretty birds 
That took their bride away. 




Brown Adam 21 

VI 

BROWN ADAM 



OWHA wad wish the wind to blaw, 
Or the green leaves fa' therewith ? 
Or wha wad wish a lealer love 
Than Brown Adam the Smith ? 

2 
But they hae banished him, Brown Adam, 

Frae father and frae mother ; 
And they hae banished him, Brown Adam, 

Frae sister and frae brother. 

3 

And they hae banished him, Brown Adam, 

The flower o' a' his kin ; 
And he 's bigged a bower in gude greenwood 

Above his ladye and him. 

4 
It fell upon a summer's day, 

Brown Adam he thought lang ; 
And, for to hunt some venison, 

To greenwood he wad gang. 

5 
He has ta'en his bow his arm o'er, 

His bolts and arrows lang ; 
And he is to the gude greenwood 

As fast as he could gang. 



22 The Ballad Book 

6 

O he 's shot up, and he 's shot down, 
The bird upon the brier ; 

And he sent it hame to his ladye, 
Bade her be of gude cheer. 

7 
O he 's shot up, and he 's shot down, 

The bird upon the thorn ; 
And sent it hame to his ladye, 

Said he 'd be hame the morn. 



When he cam' to his ladye's bower-door 

He stood a little forbye, 
And there he heard a fu' fause knight 

Tempting his gay ladye. 

9 

For he 's ta'en out a gay goud ring, 
Had cost him many a poun': 

" O grant me love for love, ladye, 
And this sail be thy own." 

io 
" I lo'e Brown Adam weel," she said ; 

" I trow sae does he me ; 
I wadna gie Brown Adam's love 

For nae fause knight I see. " 

II 

Out has he ta'en a purse o' gowd 

Was a' fou to the string : 
" O grant me love for love, ladye, 

And a' this sail be thine." 



Edom d Gordon 23 

12 

* s I lo'e Brown Adam weel," she says ; 

" I wot sae does he me : 
I wadna be your light leman, 

For mair than ye could gie." 

Forth he drew his sharp bright brand ; 

His arm was stout and Strang : 
"Now grant me love for love, ladye, 

Or thro' ye this sail gang ! " 
Then, sighing, says that lady fair, 

"Brown Adam tarries lang ! " 

H 

Then in and starts him Brown Adam, 

Says, " I 'm just at your hand." 
He 's gar'd him leave his bonny bow, 

He 's gar'd him leave his brand, 
He's gar'd him leave a dearer pledge, — 

Four fingers o' his right hand. 

VII 
EDOM O' GORDON 

1 

IT fell about the Martinmas, 
When the wind blew shrill and cauld, 
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men, 
" We maun draw to a hauld. 

2 
" And whatna hauld sail we draw to, 
My merry men and me ? 
. We will gae to the house of the Rodes, 
To see that, fair ladye." 

"hauld," hold, stronghold. 



24 The Ballad Book 

3 

The lady stood on her castle wa', 
Beheld baith dale and down ; 

There she was aware of a host of men 
Came riding towards the town. 

4 
" O see ye not, my merry men a', 

see ye not what I see ? 
Methinks I see a host of men ; 

1 marvel who they be." 

5 
She weened it had been her lovely lord 

As he cam' riding hame ; 
It was the traitor, Edom o' Gordon, 

Wha recked nor sin nor shame. 

6 

She had nae sooner buskit hersell, 

And putten on her gown, 
Till Edom o' Gordon an' his men 

Were round about the town. 



They had nae sooner supper set, 
Nae sooner said the grace, 

But Edom o' Gordon an' his men 
Were lighted about the place. 



The lady ran up to her tower-head, 

As fast as she could hie, 
To see if by her fair speeches 

She could wi' him agree, 
"town," enclosed place. " buskit," readied. 



Edo?n <?' Gordon 2$ 

9 

"Come doun to me, ye lady gay, 

Come doun, come doun to me ; 
This night sail ye lig within mine arms, 

To-morrow my bride sail be." 

io 
" I winna come down, ye fause Gordon, 

I winna come down to thee ; 
I winna forsake my ain dear lord, — 

And he is na far frae me. " 

II 

" Gie owre your house, ye lady fair, 

Gie owre your house to me ; 
Or I sail burn yoursell therein, 

But and your babies three." 

12 

" I winna gie owre, ye fause Gordon, 

To nae sic traitor as thee ; 
And if ye burn my ain dear babes, 

My lord sail mak' ye dree. 

13 

"Now reach my pistol, Glaud, my man, 

And charge ye we el my gun ; 
For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher, 

My babes, we been undone ! " 

H 

She stood upon her castle wa', 

And let twa bullets flee : 
She missed that bluidy butcher's heart, 

And only razed his knee, 
"dree," suffer. 



26 The Ballad Book 

15 

" Set fire to the house ! " quo* fause Gordon, 

Wud wi' dule and ire : 
" Fause ladye, ye sail rue that shot 

As ye burn in the fire ! " 

16 

" Wae worth, wae worth ye, Jock, my man ! 

I paid ye weel your fee ; 
Why pu' ye out the grund-wa' stane, 

Lets in the reek to me ? 

17 

' ' And e'en wae worth ye, Jock, my man ! 

I paid ye weel your hire ; 
Why pu' ye out the grund-wa' stane, 

To me lets in the fire ? 

18 

" Ye paid me weel my hire, ladye, 

Ye paid me weel my fee : 
But now I 'm Edom o' Gordon's man, — 

Maun either do or dee. " 

19 

O then bespake her little son, 

Sat on the nurse's knee : 
Says, " O mither dear, gie owre this house, 

For the reek it smothers me." 

20 

" I wad gie a' my goud, my bairn, 

Sae wad I a' my fee, 
For ae blast o' the western wind, 

To blaw the reek frae thee." 

"wud," mad. "reek," smoke. 



Edom o 1 Gordon 27 

21 

O then bespake her daughter dear, — 

She was baith jimp amd sma': 
" O row' me in a pair o' sheets, 

And tow me owre the wa'l " 

22 
They row'd her in a pair o' sheets, 

And towed her owre the wa' ; 
But on the point o' Gordon's spear 

She gat a deadly fa'. 

23 

bonnie, bonnie was her mouth, 
And cherry were her cheeks, 

And clear, clear was her yellow hair, 
Whereon the red blood dreeps. 

24 
Then wF his spear he turned her owre ; 

gin her face was wan ! 

He said, " Ye are the first that e'er 

1 wished alive again." 

25 
He cam' and lookit again at her ; 

O gin her skin was white ! 
" I might hae spared that bonnie face 

To hae been some man's delight " 

26 
" Busk and boun, my merry men a', 
For ill dooms I do guess ; — 

1 cannot look on that bonnie face 
As it lies on the grass. ' 

" Busk and boun," trim up and prepare to go. 



28 The Ballad Book 

27 
" Wha looks to freits, my master dear, 

Its freits will follow them ; 
Let it ne'er be said that Edom o' Gordon 

Was daunted by a dame. " 

28 
But when the ladye saw the fire 

Come flaming o'er her head, 
She wept, and kissed her children twain, 

Says, "Bairns, we been but dead." 

29 
The Gordon then his bugle blew, 

And said, " Awa', awa' ! 
This house o' the Rodes is a' in a flame ; 

I hauld it time to ga'." 

30 

And this way lookit her ain dear lord, 

As he came owre the lea ; 
He saw his castle a' in a lowe, 

Sae far as he could see. 

31 

Put on, put on, my wighty men, 

As fast as ye can dri'e ! 
For he that 's hindmost o' the thrang 

Sail ne'er get good o' me." 

32 
Then some they rade, and some they ran, 

Out-owre the grass and bent ; 
But ere the foremost could win up, 
Baith lady and babes were brent. 
" freits," ill omens. " lowe," blaze, "wighty," sturdy. 



Young Waters 29 

33 
xAnd after the Gordon he is gane, 

Sae fast as he might dri'e ; 
And soon i' the Gordon's foul heart's blude 

He 's wroken his fair ladye. 



YOUNG WATERS 



IT was about Yule, when the wind blew cool, 
And the round tables began, 
O there is come to our King's court 
Many a well-favored man. 

2 
The Queen looked over the castle wall, 

Beheld both dale and down, 
And there she saw the brave Young Waters 

Come riding to the town. 

3 

His footmen they ran on before, 

His horsemen rode behind ; 
A mantle seamed with burning gold 

Did keep him from the wind. 

4 
Then careless spake a wily lord, 

And to the Queen said he, 
* ' Now which might seem the comeliest man 
That rides in that company ? " 
" wroken," avenged. 



30 The Ballad Book 

5 
" I 've seen lord, and I Ve seen laird, 

And knights of high degree ; 
But so fair a face as Young Waters' 

Mine eyes did never see." 

6 

Out then spake the jealous King, 

And an angry man was he : 
1 ' Now if he had been twice as fair, 

You might have excepted me. " 

7 
" You 're neither laird nor lord," she says, 

But the King that wears the crown ; 
There is not a knight in fair Scotland 

But to thee maun bow down." 



For all that she could do or say, 
Appeased he would not be ; 

But for the words which she had said 
Young Waters he must dee. 

9 

" Young Waters is a traitor bold, 
I have proof enough," says he ; 

And vile fause-witness though it was, 
Young Waters he must dee. 



Now they have ta'en Young Waters, 

Put fetters on his feet ; 
Now they have ta'en Young Waters, 

And thrown him in dungeon deep. 



Young Waters 31 

n 

" Oft I have ridden through Stirling town 

In wind, and snow, and sleet ; 
But I never rode through Stirling town 

With fetters at my feet. 

12 

" Oft I have ridden through Stirling town, 

In the sunshine and the rain ; 
But now I ride through Stirling town, 

Ne'er to return again. " 

13 

They brought unto the heading-hill 

His hounds within a leash ; 
They brought unto the heading-hill 

His goshawk in a jess. 

H 

They led unto the heading-hill 

His horse and golden saddle ; 
The nurse came to the heading-hill 

With his young son from the cradle. 

15 

His wife came to the heading-hill : 

" Adieu, dear love, to thee ! " 
And for the words the Queen had spoke 

Did brave Young Waters dee. 




32- The Ballad Book 



IX 

THE WIFE OF USHER'S WELL 

i 

THERE lived a wife at Usher's Well, 
And a wealthy wife was she ; 
She had three stout and stalwart sons, 
And sent them o'er the sea. 

2 
They hadna been a week from her, 

A week but barely ane, 
When word cam' to the carline wife 

That her three sons were gane. 

3 
They hadna been a week from her, 

A week but barely three, 
When word cam' to the carline wife 

That her sons she 'd never see. 

4 
" I wish the wind may never cease, 

Nor fish be in the flood, 
Till my three sons come hame to me, 

In earthly flesh and blood ! " 

5 
It fell about the Martinmas, 

When nights are lang and mirk, 
The carline wife's three sons cam' hame, 
And their hats were o' the birk. 
' carline-wife," an old peasant-woman. " birk," birch. 



The Wife of Ushers Well y 

6 
It neither grew in syke nor ditch, 

Xor yet in any sheugh ; 
But at the gates o' Paradise 

That birk grew fair eneugh. 

7 
" Blow up the fire, my maidens ! 

Bring water from the well ! 
For a' my house shall feast this night, 

Since my three sons are well. 5> 

8 
And she has made to them a bed, 

She 's made it large and wide ; 
And she 's ta'en her mantle round about, 

Sat down at the bedside. 

9 

Up then crew the red, red cock, 

And up and crew the gray ; 
The eldest to the youngest said, 
" 'Tis time we were away. 

io 
"The cock doth craw, the day doth daw, 

The channerin' worm doth chide ; 
Gin we be miss'd out o' our place, 

A sair pain we maun bide." 

II 

"Lie still, lie still but a little wee while, 

Lie still but if we may ; 
Gin my mother should miss us when she wakes, 

She '11 go mad ere it be day. 

" syke," marsh. " sheugh," trench. 

3 



34 The Ballad Book 

12 

' ' Our mother has nae mair but us ; 

See where she leans asleep ; 
The mantle that was on herself, 

She has happ'd it round our feet." 

13 

O it 's they have ta'en up their mother's mantle, 

And they 've hung it on a pin : 
" O lang may ye hing, my mother's mantle, 

Ere ye hap us again ! 

14 

" Fare ye weel, my mother dear ! 

Fareweel to barn and byre ! 
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass 

That kindles my mother's fire ! " 

x 
THE DEATH OF PARCY REED 



GOD send the land deliverance 
Frae every reaving, riding Scot ! 
We '11 sune hae neither cow nor ewe, 
We '11 sune hae neither staig nor stot. 

2 
The outlaws come fra Liddesdale, 

They herry Redesdale far and near ; 
The rich man's gelding it maun gang, 

They canna pass the puir man's mear. 

" reaving " (reave or rive ; reft), taking by violence. 
1 staig nor stot," young horse nor ox. " hcrry, plunder.' 



The Death of Pare y Reed 35 

3 

Sure it were weel, had ilka thief 

Around his neck a halter Strang ; 
And curses heavy may they light 

On traitors vile oursels amang ! 

4 
Now Parcy Reed has Crosier ta'en, 

He has delivered him to the law ; 
But Crosier says he'll do waur than that, ~ 

He '11 make the tower o' Troughend fa. ' 

5 
And Crosier says he will do waur — 

He will do waur if waur can be ; 
He '11 make Parcy's bairns a' fatherless ; 

And Parcy's land may then lie lee. 

6 

"To the hunting, ho ! " cried Parcy Reed, 
4 ' The morning sun is on the dew ; 

The cauler breeze frae off the fells 

Will lead the dogs to the quarry true. 

7 
"To the hunting, ho !" cried Parcy Reed, 

And to the hunting he has gane ; 
And the three fause Ha's o' Girsonsfield 

Alang wi' him he has them ta'en. 



They hunted high, they hunted low, 
By heathery hill and birken shaw ; 

They raised a buck on Rooken Edge, 
And blew the mort at Ealylawe. 



36 The Ballad Book 

9 

They hunted high, they hunted low, 
They made the echoes ring amain ; 

With music sweet o' horn and hound, 
They merry made fair Redesdale glen. 

10 
They hunted high, they hunted low, 

They hunted up, they hunted down, 
Until the day was past the prime, 

And it grew late in the afternoon. 



They hunted high in Batinghope, 
When as the sun was sinking low, 

Says Parcy then, "Ca' off the dogs, 

We '11 bait our steeds and homeward go. " 

12 

They lighted aff in Batinghope, 

Atween the brown and benty ground ; 

They had but rested a little while, 
Till Parcy Reed was sleeping sound. 

13 

There 's nane may lean on a rotten staff, 
But him that risks to get a fa' ; 

There 's nane may in a traitor trust, 
And traitors black were every Ha'. 

14 

They 've stown the bridle aff his steed, 
And they 've put water in his lang gun ; 

They 've fixed his sword within the sheath, 
That out again it winna come. 



TTu Death of Parcy R:cd 

*5 

''Awaken ye, waken ye. Parcy Reed, 
Or by your enemies be ta'en ; 

For yonder are die five Crosiers 
A-coniing owrc die Hingia-stane. " 

16 
" If they be five, and we be four, 

Sae diat ye stand alang wi' me, 
Then every man ye will take one, 

And only leave but two to me : 
We will the::: meet as brave men ought, 

And make them either fight or flee " 

17 

" We mayna stand, we canna stand, 
We daurna stand alang wi* thee ; 

The Crosiers hand thee at a feud, 
And they wad gar us a' to dee."' 

IS 
" 0. turn thee, turn thee. Johnnie Ha", 

O, turn thee, man, and tight wi' me ; 
When ye come to Troughend again, 

My gude black naig I will gie thee ; 
He cost full twenty pound o' goad, 

Atween my brother John and me." 

19 
"I mayna turn, I canna turn, 

I daurna turn and light wi" thee ; 
The Crosiers baud thee at a feud, 

And they wad kill baidi thee and me."' 



38 The Ballad Book 

20 
' O, turn thee, turn thee, Willie Ha', 

O, turn thee, man, and fight wi' me ; 
When ye come to Troughend again, 
A yoke o' owsen I '11 gie thee." 

21 

" I mayna turn, I canna turn, 
I daurna turn and fight wi' thee ; 

The Crosiers haud diee at a feud, 

And they wad kill baith thee and me." 

22 
1 ' O, turn thee, turn thee, Tommy Ha', 

O, turn now, man, and fight wi' me ; 
If ever we come to Troughend again, 

My daughter Jean I '11 gie to thee." 

23 
" I mayna turn, I canna turn, 

I daurna turn and fight wi' thee ; 
The Crosiers haud thee at a feud, 

And they wad kill baith thee and me." 

24 
" O, shame upon ye, traitors a' ! 

I wish your hames ye may never see ; 
Ye 've stown the bridle afT my naig, 

And I can neither fight nor flee. 

25 
" Ye Ve stown the bridle afT my naig, 

And ye 've put water i' my lang gun ; 
Ye 've fixed my sword within the sheath, 

That out again it winna come. " 



The Death of Parcy Reed 39 

26 
He had but time to cross riimsel', 

A prayer he hadna time to say, 
Till round him came the Crosiers keen, 

All riding graithed, and in array. 

27 
' ' Weel met, weel met, now, Parcy Reed, 

Thou art the very man we sought ; 
Owre lang hae we been in your debt, 

Now will we pay you as we ought. 

28 
" We'll pay thee at the nearest tree, 

Where we shall hang thee like a hound " ; 
Brave Parcy raised his fankit sword, 

And felled the foremost to the ground. 

29 
Alake, and wae for Parcy Reed, 

Alake, he was an unarmed man ; 
Four weapons pierced him all at once, 

As they assailed him there and than. 

They fell upon him all at once, 
They mangled him most cruellie ; 

Their slightest wound might caused his deid, 
And they have gi'en him thirty-three. 

They hacket off his hands and feet, 
And left him lying on the lee. 

31 
"Now, Parcy Reed, we 've paid our debt, 

Ye canna weel dispute the tale," 
The Crosiers said, and off they rade, — 
They rade the airt o' Liddesdale. 
' graithed," accoutred. " fankit." entangled. 



40 The Ballad Book 

32 
It was the hour o' gloamin' gray, 

When herds come in frae fauld and pen ; 
A herd he saw a huntsman lie, 

Says he, " Can this be Laird Troughen' ?" 

33 
* ' There 's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, 

And some will ca' me Laird Troughen'; 
It 's little matter what they ca' me, 

My faes hae made me ill to ken. 

34 
* ' There 's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, 

And speak my praise in tower and town ; 
It 's little matter what they do now, 

My life-blood rudds the heather brown. 

35 
* ' There 's some will ca' me Parcy Reed, 

And a' my virtues say and sing ; 
But now I would much rather hae 

A draught o' water frae the spring ! " 

36 

The herd flung affhis clouted shoon, 
And to the nearest fountain ran ; 

He made his bonnet serve a cup, 

And wan the blessing o' the dying man. 

37 
" Now, honest herd, ye maun do mair, — 

Ye maun do mair as I ye tell ; 
Ye maun bear tidings to Troughend, 

And bear likewise my last farewell. 



The Death of Fairy Reed 41 

38 

" A farewell to my wedded wife, 

A farewell to my brother John, 
Wha sits into the Troughend tower, 

Wi' heart as hard as any stone. 

39 

' ' A farewell to my daughter Jean, 

A farewell to my young sons five ; 
Had they been at their father's hand, 

I had this night been man alive. 

40 
"A farewell to my followers a', 

And a' my neighbors gude at need ; 
Bid them think how the treacherous Ha's 

Betrayed the life o' Parcy Reed. 

41 
" The laird o' Clennel bears my bow, 

The laird o' Brandon bears my brand ; 
Whene'er they ride i' the border side, 

They '11 mind the fate o' the Laird Troughend. " 




42 The Ballad Book 

XI 

WALY, WALY 



OWALY, waly, up the bank, 
O waly, waly, doun the brae, 
And waly, waly, yon burn-side, 

Where I and my love were wont to gae ! 
I leaned my back unto an aik, 
I thocht it was a trustie tree, 
But first it bowed and syne it brak', — 
Sae my true love did litchtlie me. 

2 
O waly, waly, but love be bonnie 

A little time while it is new ! 
But when it 's auld it waxeth cauld, 

And fadeth avva' like the morning dew. 
O wherefore should I busk my heid, 

Or wherefore should I kame my hair ? 
For my true love has me forsook, 

And says he '11 never lo'e me mair. 

3 

Noo Arthur's Seat sail be my bed, 

The sheets sail ne'er be pressed by me ; 
Saint Anton's well sail be my drink ; 

Since my true love 's forsaken me. 
Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, 

And shake the green leaves off the tree ? 
O gentle death, when wilt thou come ? 

For of my life I am wearie. 



The Laird <?' Drum 43 

4 
'T is not the frost that freezes fell, 

Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie, 
'T is not sic cauld that makes me cry ; 

But my love's heart grown cauld to me. 
When we cam' in by Glasgow toun, 

We were a comely sicht to see ; 
My love was clad in the black velvet, 

An' I mysel' in cramasie. 

5 
But had I wist before I kissed 

That love had been so ill to win, 
I 'd locked my heart in a case o' goud, 

And pinned it wi' a siller pin. 
Oh, oh ! if my young babe were born, 

And set upon the nurse's knee ; 
And I mysel' were dead and gane, 

And the green grass growing over me ! 



XII 

THE LAIRD Cr DRUM 

1 

THE Laird o' Drum is a-hunting gane, 
All in a morning early, 
And he has spied a weel-faur'd May, 
A-shearing at her barley. 

2 
"My bonny May, my -weel-faur'd May, 

O will ye fancy me, O ? 
Wilt gae and be the Leddy o' Drum, 
And let your shearing a-be, O V 
"cramasie " (cramoisie), crimson. 



44 The Ballad Book 

3 
"It's I winna fancy you, kind sir, 

Nor let my shearing a-be, O ; 
For I 'm ower low to be Leddy Drum, 

And your light love I '11 never be, O." 

4 
"Gin ye '11 cast affthat gown o' gray, 

Put on the silk for me, O, 
I '11 make a vow, and keep it true, 

A light love you '11 never be, O." 

5 
" My father he is a shepherd mean, 

Keeps sheep on yonder hill, O, 
And ye may gae and speer at him, 

For I am at his will, O." 

6 

Drum is to her father gane, 

Keeping his sheep on yon hill, O : 

" I am come to marry your ae daughter, 
If ye '11 gie me your good-will, O. " 

7 
* l My dochter can naether read nor write, 

She ne'er was brocht up at scheel, O ; 
But weel can she milk baith cow and ewe, 

And mak' a kebbuck weel, O. 



" She'll shake your barn, and win your corn, 

And gang to kiln and mill, O ; 
She '11 saddle your steed in time o' need, 

And draw aff yer boots hersell, O." 
" kebbuck," cheese. 



The Laird 6* Drum 45 

9 

" I '11 learn your lassie to read and write, 

And I '11 put her to the scheel, ; 
She shall neither need to saddle my steed, 

Nor draw aff my boots hersell, O. 

10 
"But wha will bake my bridal bread, 

Or brew my bridal ale, ; 
And wha will welcome my bonnie bride, 

Is mair than I can tell, 0." 

II 

Four-and-twenty gentlemen 

Gaed in at the yetts of Drum, O ; 
But no a man has lifted his hat, 

When the Leddy o' Drum came in, O. 

12 

" P e ggy Coutts is a very bonny bride, 

And Drum is big and gawsy ; 
But he might hae chosen a higher match 

Than ony shepherd's lassie ! " 

13 

Then up bespak his brother John, 

Says, " Ye've done us meikle wrang, O ; 

Ye Ve married ane far below our degree, 
A mock to a' our kin, O. " 

14 

4 ■ Now haud your tongue, my brother John ; 

What needs it thee offend, O ? 
I 've married a wife to work and win, 

And ye Ve married ane to spend, O. 
"gawsy," portly. 



46 The Ballad Book 

15 

" The first time that I married a wife, 
She was far abune my degree, O ; 

She wadna hae walked thro' the yetts o' Drum, 
But the pearlin' abune her bree, O, 

And I durstna gang in the room where she was, 
But my hat below my knee, O ! " 

16 
He has ta'en her by the milk-white hand, 

And led her in himsell, O ; 
And in through ha's, and in through bowers, — 

"And ye 're welcome, Leddy Drum, O." 

17 
When they had eaten and well drunken, 

And 2l men bound for bed, O, 
The Laird of Drum and his Leddy fair, 

In ae bed they were laid, O. 

18 
"Gin ye had been o' high renown, 

As ye 're o' low degree, O, 
We might hae baith gane doun the street 

Amang gude companie, O." 

19 

"I tauld ye weel ere we were wed, 
Ye were far abune my degree, O ; 

But now I 'm married, in your bed laid, 
And just as good as ye, O. 

20 
" For an I were dead, and ye were dead, 

And baith in ae grave had lain, O ; 
Ere seven years were come and gane, 
They'd no ken your dust frae mine, O." 
"pearlin','' lace. "bree," brow. 



Annan Water 47 

XIII 

ANNAN WATER 



" A NNAN Water 's wading deep, 
ii And my love Annie 's wondrous bonny ; 
I will keep my tryst to-night, 

And win the heart o' lovely Annie. " 

2 
He 's loupen on his bonny gray, 

He rade the right gate and the ready; 
For a' the storm he wadna stay, 

For seeking o' his bonny lady. 

3 
And he has ridden o'er the field and fell, 

Through muir and moss, and stones arid mire ; 
His spurs o' steel were sair to bide, 

And frae her four feet flew the fire. 

4 
" My bonny gray, .noo play your part ! 

Gin ye be the steed that wins my dearie, 
Wi' corn and hay ye 'se be fed for aye, 

And never spur sail mak' you wearie. " 

5 
The gray was a mare, and a right gude mare ; 

But when she wan the Annan Water, 
She couldna hae found the ford that night 

Had a thousand merks been wadded at her. 

"wadded," wagered. 



48 The Ballad Book 



"O boatman, boatman, put off your boat, 
Put off your boat for gouden money ! " 

But for a' the goud in fair Scotland, 

He dared na tak' him through to Annie. 

7 
" O I was sworn sae late yestreen, 

Not by a single aith, but mony. 
I '11 cross the drumly stream to-night, 

Or never could I face my honey. " 



The side was stey, and the bottom deep, 
Frae bank to brae the water pouring ; 

The bonny gray mare she swat for fear, 
For she heard the water-kelpy roaring. 

9 

He spurred her forth into the flood, 

I wot she swam both strong and steady ; 

But the stream was broad, her strength did fail, 
And he never saw his bonny lady. 

10 

O wae betide the frush saugh wand ! 

And wae betide the bush of brier ! 
That bent and brake into his hand, 

When strength of man and horse did tire. 

II 

And wae betide ye, Annan Water ! 

This night ye are a drumly river ; 
But over thee we '11 build a brig, 

That ye nae mair true love may sever. 

"stey," steep. "water-kelpy," water-spirit or goblin, 

'drumly," troubled. "frush," brittle. " saugh, " sallow. 



The Hunting of the Cheviot 49 

XIV 

THE HUNTING OF THE CHEVIOT 

1 

THE Percy out of Northumberland, 
And a vow to God made he, 
That he would hunt in the mountains 

Of Cheviot within days three, 
In the maugre of doughty Douglas, 
And all that with him be. 

2 
The fattest harts in all Cheviot 

He said he would kill and carry away ; 
" By my faith,'' said the doughty Douglas again, 

"I will let that hunting if I may." 

3 
Then the Percy out of Bamborough came, 

And with him a mighty meyne, 
Fifteen hundred archers, of blood and bone, 

They were chosen out of shires three. 

4 
This began on a Monday at morn, 

Iu Cheviot the hills so hie ; 
The child may rue it that is unborn ; 

It was the more pitie. 

5 
The drivers thorough the woodes went, 

For to raise the deer ; 
Bowmen bickered upon the bent 
With their broad arrows clear. 
" meyne," company. 



50 The Ballad Book 

6 

Then the wild thorough the woodes went, 

On every side shear ; 
Greyhounds thorough the greves glent 

For to kill their deer. 

7 
They began in Cheviot, the hills above, 

Early on Monanday ; 
By that it drew to the hour of noon, 

A hundred fat hartes dead there lay. 



They blew a mort upon the bent, 

They assembled on sides shear ; 
To the quarry then the Percy went, 

To the brittling of the deer. 

9 

He said, "It was the Douglas's promise 

This day to meet me here : 
But I wist he would fail, verament, " — 

A great oath the Percy sware. 

io 

At last a squire of Northumberland 

Looked at his hand full nigh ; 
He was ware of the doughty Douglas coming, 

With him a mighty meyne ; 

n 
Both with spear, bill, and brand ; 
It was a mighty sight to see ; 

" wild," wild creatures. " shear," straight and swift, 

'greves," groves. " glent," glanced. "quarry," prey. 

' brittling," cutting up. " bill and brand," pike and sword. 



The Hunting of the Cheviot 51 

Hardier men, both of heart and hand, 
Were not in Christiantie. 

12 

They were twenty hundred spearmen good, 

Withouten any fail ; 
They were born along by the Water of Tweed, 

In the bounds of Tivydale. 

13 

" Leave off brittling the deer," he said, 
" To your bows look ye take good heed ; 

For since ye were of your mothers born 
Had ye never so mickle need." 

14 

The doughty Douglas on a steed 

He rode all his men beforne ; 
His armor glittered as a glede ; 

A bolder barne was never born. 

15 
"Tell me who ye are," he says, 

" Or whose men that ye be ; 
Who gave you leave to hunt in this chase 

In the spite of me ? " 

16 

The first man that ever him answer made, 

It was the good Lord Percy ; 
" We will not tell thee who we are, 

Nor whose men that we be ; 
But we will hunt here in this chase, 

In spite of thine and thee. 

"glede," fire. "barne," man-child. 



52 The Ballad Book 

17 

" The fattest harts in all Cheviot 

We have killed, and cast to carry away." 

"By my troth/' said the doughty Douglas again, 
"Therefor shall one of us die this day." 

18 

Then said the doughty Douglas 

Unto the Lord Percy, 
"To kill all these guiltless men, 

Alas, it were great pitie ! 

19 
"But, Percy, thou art a lord of land, 

And I am earl called in my countrie ; 
Let all our men apart from us stand, 

And do the battle off thee and me. " 

20 
' ' Now, curse on his crown, " said the Lord Percy, 

* ' Whosoever thereto says nay ! — 
By my troth, doughty Douglas," he says, 

"Thou never shalt see that day. 

21 

" Neither in England, Scotland, nor France, 

Of woman born there is none, 
But, an fortune be my chance, 

I dare meet him, one man for one. " 

22 
Then spake a squire of Northumberland, 

Richard Witherington was his name : 
" It shall never be told in South-England," he says, 
"To King Harry the Fourth, for shame ! 
" cast," intend. 



The Hunting of the Cheviot 53 

23 
1 ' I wot ye bin great lordes two, 

I am a poor squire of land ; 
I '11 ne'er see my captain fight on a field, 

And a looker-on to stand : 
But while I may my weapon wield 

I will fail not, heart and hand. " 

24 
That day, that day, that dreadful day ! — 

The first fytte here I find. 
An ye will hear more of the Hunting of Cheviot, 

Yet more there is behind. 



THE SECOND FYTTE 



THE Englishmen had their bowes bent, 
Their hearts were good enow ; 
The first [flight] of arrows that they shot off, 
Seven score spearmen they sloughe. 

2 
Yet bides Earl Douglas upon the bent, 

A captain good enow, 
And that was soon seen, verament, 

For he wrought [the English wo]. 

3 

The Douglas parted his host in three, 
Like a chieftain [full] of pride ; 

With sure spears of mighty tree 
They came in on every side 



54 The Ballad Book 

4 

Thorough our English archery, 

And gave many a wound full wide ; 

Many a doughty they gar'd to die, 
Which gained them no [small] pride. 

5 
The Englishmen let their bowes be, 

And pulled out brands that were bright ; 
It was a heavy sight to see 

Bright swords on basnets light 

6 

Thorough rich mail and maniple 
Stern they struck down straight ; 

Many a freke that was full free, 
There underfoot did light. 

7 
At last the Douglas and Percy met, 

Like two captains of might and main ; 
They swapt together till they both swat, 

With swords of the fine Milan. 



These worthy frekes for to fight 

Thereto they were full fain, 
Till the blood out of their basnets sprent 

As ever did hail or rain. 

9 
" Hold thee, Percy ! " said the Douglas, 

" And i' faith I shall thee bring 
W T here thou shalt have an earl's wages 

Of Jamie our Scottish king. 

1 basnets," small helmets. '* maniple " (of many folds), a 

coat worn under the armor. " freke," man. 



The Hunting of the Cheviot 55 



" Thou shalt have thy ransom free ; 

I bright thee here this thing ; 
For the manfullest man yet art thou 

That ever I conquered in fighting. " 



" Nay," said the Lord Percy, 

' ' I told it thee beforne, 
That I would never yielded be 

To no man of a woman born." 

12 

With that came an arrow hastily 

Forth of a mighty wane ; 
And it hath stricken the Earl Douglas 

In at the breast bane. 

13 

Thorough liver and lungs both 

The sharp arrow is gone, 
That never after in all his life-days 

He spake more words but one : 
That was, " fight ye, my merry men, while ye may! 

For my life-days be done." 

The Percy leaned on his brand, 

And saw the Douglas die ; 
He took the dead man by the hand, 

And said, " Wo is me for thee ! 

15 

"To have saved thy life, I would have given 
My landes for years three ; 

* ' hight, " promise. ' ' wane, " ? 



56 The Ballad Book. 

For a better man, of heart nor of hand, 
Was not in the north countrie." 

16 

Of all that saw a Scottish knight, 
Sir Hugh the Montgomerie ; 

He saw the Douglas to death was dight ; 
He spended a spear, a trusty tree ; 

17 

He rode upon a courser 

Through a hundred archery ; 

He never stinted, nor never blan, 
Till he came to good Lord Percy. 

18 
He set upon the Lord Percy 

A dint that was full sore ; 
With a sure spear of a mighty tree 

Clean thorough his body he bore, 

19 

On the other side that a man might see 
A large cloth-yard and mair. 

Two better captains in Christentie 
Were not, than the two slain there. 

20 

An archer of Northumberland 
Saw slain was the Lord Percy : 

He bare a bend-bow in his hand 
Was made of trusty tree. 

" spended," ? " blan," stopped. 



The limiting of the Cheviot 57 

21 

An arrow, that was a cloth -yard long, 

To the hard steel haled he ; 
A dint he set, was both sad and sore, 

On Sir Hugh the Montgomerie. 

22 
The dint it was both sad and sore, 

That he on Montgomerie set ; 
The swan-feathers the arrow bore 

With his hearths-blood they were wet. 

23 
There was never a freke one foot would flee, 

But still in stour did stand, 
Hewing on each other, while they might dree, 

With many a baleful brand. 

24 
This battle began in Cheviot 

An hour before the noon, 
And still when even-song bell was rung 

The battle was not half done. 

25 
They took [off] on either hand 

By the light of the moon ; 
Many had no strength for to stand, 
In Cheviot the hills aboon. 

26 
Of fifteen hundred archers of England, 

Went away but fifty and three ; 
Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scotland, 

But even five and fiftie, 

" stour," turmoil of fight, " dree," endure. 



58 The Ballad Book 

27 
They were not slain in Cheviot ; 

They had no strength to stand on hie. 
The child may rue that is unborn : 

It was the more pitie. 

28 
There was slain with Lord Percy, 

Sir John of Agerstone ; 
Sir Roger, the hynde Hartley ; 

Sir William, the bold Heron. 

29 
Sir George, the worthy Lovel, 

A knight of great renown ; 
Sir Ralph, the rich Rugby ; 

With dints were beaten down, 

30 

For Witherington my heart was wo, 
That ever he slain should be ; 

For when both his legs were hewn in two, 
Yet he kneeled and fought on his knee. 

31 
There was slain with the doughty Douglas, 

Sir Hugh the Montgomerie ; 
Sir Davy Liddale, that worthy was, 

His sister's son was he ; 

32 
Sir Charles a. Murray in that place, 

That never a foot would flee ; 
Sir Hugh Maxwell, a lord he was, 
With the Douglas did he dee. 
11 hynde," courteous. 



The Hunting of the Cheviot 59 

33 

So on the morrow they made them biers 

Of birch and hazel gray ; 
Many widows with weeping tears 

Came to fetch their makes away. 

34 
Tivydale may carp of care, 

Northumberland make great moan ; 
For two such captains as there were slain 

On the Marches shall never be none. 

35 
Word is come to Edinborough, 

To Jamie the Scottish King, 
Doughty Douglas, lieutenant of the Marches, 

Lay slain Cheviot within. 

36 

His handes did he weal and wring : 

' ' Alas, and wo is me ! 
Such another captain in Scotland wide 

There is not left," said he. 

37 
Word is come to lovely London, 

To Harry the Fourth our King, 
Lord Percy, lieutenant of the Marches, 

Lay slain Cheviot within. 

38 

"God have mercy on his soul/' said King Harry, 

" Good Lord, if Thy will it be ! 
IVe a hundred captains in England/' he said, 

" As good as ever was he : 
But, Percy, an I brook my life, 

Thy death well quit shall be." 
"makes," mates. " Marches," Borders. "weal,"? 



60 The Ballad Book 

39 
And now may Heaven amend us all, 

And into bliss us bring ! 
This was the hunting of the Cheviot : 

God send us all good ending ! 



xv 
BESSIE BELL AND MARY GRAY 



O BESSIE BELL and Mary Gray, 
They were twa bonny lasses ; 
They built a house on yon burn-brae, 
And theek't it o'er wi' rashes. 

2 

They theek't it o'er wi' burk and brume, 
They theek't it o'er wi' heather ; 

Till the pest cam' frae the neib'rin town, 
And strack them baith thegither. 

3 
They werena buried in Meffin kirkyard, 

Amang the rest o' their kin ; 
But they were buried on Dornoch Haugh, 

On the bent before the sun. 

4 
Sing, Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, 

They were twa bonny lasses ; 
They built a bower on yon burn-brae, 
And theek't it o'er wi' rashes. 
" theek't," thatched. 



Sir Patrick Spens 61 



XVI 

SIR PA TRICK SPENS 



THE king sits in Dunfermline town, 
Drinking the blude-red wine : 
" O whare will I get a skeely skipper 
To sail this new ship o 1 mine ? M 

2 
O up and spake an eldern knight, 

Sat at the king's right knee : 
" Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor 

That ever sailed the sea." 

3 

Our king has written a braid letter 

And sealed it wi' his hand, 
And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, 

Was walking on the sand. 

4 
"To Noroway, to Noroway, 

To Noroway o'er the faem ; 
The king's daughter to Noroway, 

'T is thou maun bring her hame.' , 

5 
" Be it wind or weet, be it hail or sleet, 

Our ship must sail the faem ; 
The king's daughter to Noroway, 
'Tis we must bring her hame." 
"skeely," skilful. 



62 The Ballad Book 

6 
They hoisted their sails on Monenday mora 

Wi' a' the speed they may ; 
They hae landed safe in Noroway 

Upon a Wodensday. 

7 
They hadna been a week, a week, 

In Noroway but twae, 
When that the lords o' Noroway 

Began aloud to say : 



"Ye Scottish men spend a' our king's goud 

And a' our queenis fee. " 
" Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud, 

Fu' loud I hear ye lie ! 

9 
" For I brought as mickle white monie 

As gane my men and me, — 
And I brought a half-fou o' gude red goud 

Out-o'er the sea wi' me. 

io 
"Mak' ready, mak' ready, my merry men a' ! 

Our gude ship sails the morn. " 
' * Now ever alake ! my master dear, 

I fear a deadly storm. 

II 

" I saw the new moon late yestreen, 

Wi' the auld moon in her arm ; 
And if we gang to sea, master, 

I fear we'll come to harm." 

" gane," sufficed. " half-fou," half-bushel. 



Sir Patrick Spens 63 



They hadna sailed upon the sea 

A day but barely three, 
Till loud and boisterous grew the wind, 

And gurly grew the sea. 

13 

O where will I get a gude sailor 
To tak' my helm in hand, 
Till I gae up to the tall topmast 
To see if I can spy land ? " 

H 

"O here am I, a sailor gude, 

To tak' the helm in hand, 
Till you gae up to the tall topmast, — 

But I fear you '11 ne'er spy land. " 

15 

He hadna gane a step, a step, 

A step but barely ane, 
When a bolt flew out o' our goodly ship, 

And the salt sea it came in 

16 

' ' Gae fetch a web o' the silken claith, 

Anither o' the twine, 
And wap them into our ship's side, 

And letna the sea come in." 

17 

They fetched a web o' the silken claith, 

Anither o' the twine, 
And they wapped them into that gude ship's side, 

But still the sea cam' in. 



64 The Ballad Book 

18 

O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords 
To weet their milk-white hands ; 

But lang ere a' the play was ower 
They wat their gouden bands. 

19 

O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords 
To weet their cork-heeled shoon ; 

But lang ere a' the play was played 
They wat their hats aboon. 

20 
O lang, lang may the ladies sit 

Wi' their fans into their hand, 
Before they see Sir Patrick Spens 

Come sailing to the land ! 

21 

And lang, lang may the maidens sit 
Wi' their goud kaims in their hair 

Awaiting for their ain dear loves, 
For them they '11 see nae mair. 

22 
Half ower, half ower to Aberdour, 

It 's fifty fathoms deep ; 
And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, 

Wi' the Scots lords at his feet. 




King Joh7i and the Abbot 65 



XVII 

KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CAN- 
TERBURY 

1 

AN ancient story I '11 tell you anon, 
Of a notable prince, that was called King John ; 
He ruled over England with main and might, 
But he did great wrong, and maintained little right. 

2 
And I '11 tell you a story, a story so merry, 
Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury ; 
How for his housekeeping and high renown, 
They rode post to bring him to London town. 

3 
A hundred men, as the King heard say, 
The Abbot kept in his house every day ; 
And fifty gold chains, without any doubt, 
In velvet coats waited the Abbot about 

4 
" How now, Father Abbot ? I hear it of thee, 
Thou keepest a far better house than me ; 
And for thy housekeeping and high renown, 
I fear thou work'st treason against my crown. " 

5 
"My liege," quoth the Abbot, "I would it were 

known, 
I am spending nothing but what is my own ; 
And I trust your grace will not put me in fear, 
For spending my own true-gotten gear." 
5 



66 The Ballad Book 



" Yes, yes, Father Abbot, thy fault is high, 
And now for the same thou needest must die ; 
And except thou canst answer me questions three, 
Thy head struck off from thy body shall be. 

7 
" And first," quo' the King, " as I sit here, 
With my crown of gold on my head so fair, 
Among all my liegemen of noble birth, — 
Thou must tell to one penny what I am worth. 



" Secondly, tell me, beyond all doubt, 
How soon I may ride the whole world about ; 
And at the third question thou must not shrink, 
But tell me here truly, what do I think ? " 

9 

" O, these are deep questions for my shallow wit, 
And I cannot answer your Grace as yet : 
But if you will give me a fortnight's space, 
I '11 do my endeavor to answer your Grace. " 

io 

" Now a fortnight's space to thee will I give, 
And that is the longest thou hast to live ; 
For unless thou answer my questions three, 
Thy life and thy lands are forfeit to me. " 

II 

Away rode the Abbot all sad at this word ; 
He rode to Cambridge and Oxenford ; 
But never a doctor there was so wise, 
That could by his learning an answer devise. 



King John and the Abbot 6 J 

12 

Then home rode the Abbot, with comfort so cold, 
And he met his shepherd, a-going to fold : 
" Now, good Lord Abbot, you are welcome home ; 
What news do you bring us from great King John ? " 

" Sad news, sad news, Shepherd, I must give; 
That I have but three days more to live. 
I must answer the King his questions three, 
Or my head struck off from my body shall be. 

" The first is to tell him, as he sits there, 
With his crown of gold on his head so fair 
Among all his liegemen of noble birth, 
To within one penny, what he is worth. 

15 

* ' The second, to tell him, beyond all doubt, 
How soon he may ride this whole world about ; 
And at question the third, I must not shrink, 
But tell him there truly, what does he think ? " 

16 
' ' O, cheer up, my lord ; did you never hear yet 
That a fool may teach a wise man wit ? 
Lend me your serving-men, horse, and apparel, 
And I '11 ride to London to answer your quarrel. 

17 
4 ' With your pardon, it oft has been told to me 
That I 'm like your lordship as ever can be : 
And if you will but lend me your gown, 
There is none shall know us at London town." 



68 The Ballad Book 

18 

' ' Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have, 
With sumptuous raiment gallant and brave ; 
With crosier, and mitre, and rochet, and cope, 
Fit to draw near to our father the pope. " 

19 
" Now welcome, Sir Abbot, the king he did say, 
" 'T is well thou 'rt come back to keep thy day ; 
For and if thou canst answer my questions three, 
Thy life and thy living both saved shall be. 

20 

" And first, as thou seest me sitting here, 
With my crown of gold on my head so fair, 
Among my liegemen of noble birth, — 
Tell to one penny what I am worth." 

21 

" For thirty pence our Saviour was sold 
Among the false Jews, as I have been told ; 
And twenty-nine is the worth of thee ; 
For, I think, thou art one penny worse than he. " 

22 
The King he laughed, and swore by St. Bittle, 
' ' I did not think I was worth so little ! 
Now secondly tell me, beyond all doubt, 
How soon I may ride this world about." 

23 
" You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same, 
Until the next morning he riseth again ; 
And then your Grace need never doubt 
But in twenty-four hours you '11 ride it about. 



The Douglas Tragedy 69 

24 
The King he laughed, and swore by St. Jone, 
" I did not think I could do it so soon ! 
Now from question the third thou must not shrink, 
But tell me truly, what do I think ? " 

25 
" Yea, that I shall do, and make your Grace merry : 
You think I 'm the Abbot of Canterbury ; 
But I 'm his poor shepherd, as plain you may see, 
That am come to beg pardon for him and for me." 

26 

The King he laughed, and swore by the mass, 
" I '11 make thee Lord Abbot this day in his place ! " 
* ' Now nay, my Liege, be not in such speed ; 
For, alas ! I can neither write nor read." 

27 
8 ' Four nobles a week, then, I '11 give to thee, 
For this merry jest thou hast shown to me ; 
And tell the old Abbot, when thou gettest home, 
Thou hast brought him free pardon from King John." 



THE DOUGLAS TRAGEDY 



" T~) ISE up, rise up, Lord Douglas ! " she says, 
JL V " And put on your armor so bright ; 
Let it ne'er be said that a daughter of ours 
Was married to a lord under night. 



70 The Ballad Book 

2 

* ' Rise up, rise up, my two bold sons, 

And put on your armor so bright ; 
And take better care o' your youngest sister, 

For your eldest 's awa' this night ! " 

3 
Lady Margaret was on a milk-white steed, 

Lord William was on a gray, 
A buglet-horn hung down by his side, 

And swiftly they rode away. 

4 
Lord William looked over his left shoulder 

To see what he could see, 
And there he spied her two bold brothers 

Come riding o'er the lea. 

5 
"Light down, light down, Lady Margaret," he said, 

' ' And hold my steed in your hand, 
Until that against your two bold brothers, 

And your father, I make a stand." 

6 
She held his steed in her milk-white hand, 

And never shed one tear, 
Until she saw her two brothers fa', 

And hard-fighting her father dear. 

7 
" O haud your hand, Lord William ! " she said, 

* ' Your strokes they are wondrous sair ; 
Though lovers I might get mony a ane, 

A father I canna get mair." 



The Douglas Tragedy 71 



Then she 's ta'en aff her neckerchief, 

It was o' the cambric fine, 
And aye she dighted her father's wounds ; 

His blood ran down like wine. 

9 

* ' Now choose, now choose, Lady Margaret : 

Will ye gang wi' me, or bide ? " 
" I '11 gang, I '11 gang, Lord William," she said ; 

" Ye 've left me no other guide." 

10 

He lifted her up on her milk-white steed, 

And mounted his dapple-gray, 
With his buglet-horn hung down by his side, 

And slowly they rade away. 

11 

O they rade on, and on they rade, 

And a' by the light o' the moon, 
Until they came to a wan water, 

And there they lighted down. 



They lighted down to tak' a drink 

O' the spring that ran so clear, 
But down the stream ran his gude heart's blood, 

And sair she 'gan to fear. 

13 

" Hold up, hold up, Lord William," she said, 

* ' I fear me you are slain ! " 
"'Tis but the shadow o' my scarlet cloak 

That shines in the water sae plain." 



72 The Ballad Book 

14 

O they rade on, and on they rade, 
And a' by the light o ? the moon, 

Until they came to his mother's ha', 
And there they lighted down. 

15 

" Get up, get up, lady mother," he says, 

"Get up, and let in your son ! 
Open the door, lady mother," he says, 

' ' For this night my fair lady I 've won ! 

16 

"Now mak' my bed, lady mother," he says, 
"O mak' it baith wide and deep, 

And lay Lady Margaret close at my back, 
And the sounder I will sleep ! " 

17 

Lord William was dead lang ere midnight, 

Lady Margaret lang ere day. 
May all true lovers that go thegither 

Have mair gude luck than they ! 

18 
Lord William was buried in Mary's Kirk, 

Lady Margaret in Mary's Quire ; 
And out o' her grave grew a bonny red rose, 

And out o' the knight's a briar. 

19 

And they twa met, and they twa plat, 

And fain they wad be near ; 
And a' the warld right weel might ken 

These were twa lovers dear. 



Kefnpion 73 



20 

Till bye and rade the Black Douglas, 
And O but he was rough ! 

For he pu'd up the bonny brier, 
And flang 't in St. Mary's Lough. 



KEMPION 



HER mither died when she was young, 
Which gave her cause to make great moan ; 
Her father married the warse woman 
That ever lived in Christendom. 

2 
She served well wi' foot and hand, 

In everything that she could dee ; 
But her stepmither hated her warse and warse, 

And a powerful wicked witch was she. 

3 
"Come hither, come hither, ye cannot choose; 

And lay your head low on my knee ; 
The heaviest weird I will you read 

That ever was redd to gay ladye. 

4 

"Mickle dolour sail ye dree 

When o'er the saut seas maun ye swim ; 
And far mair dolour sail ye dree 

When up to Estmere Crags ye climb. 

" weird." doom. " dree," suffer. 



74 The Ballad Book 

5 
" I weird ye to be a fiery snake ; 

And borrowed sail ye never be, 
Unless that Kempion, the king's own son, 

Come to the crag and thrice kiss thee. 
Until the warld comes to an end, 

Borrowed sail ye never be ! " 

6 

O mickle dolour did she dree, 

And aye the saut seas o'er she swam ; 

And far mair dolour did she dree 

On Estmere Crags, when up she clamb. 

7 
And aye she cried on Kempion, 

Gin he would but come to her hand : — 
Now word has gane to Kempion, 

That siccan a beast was in the land. 

8 
" Now, by my sooth," said Kempion, 

' ' This fiery beast I '11 gang and see. " 
"And by my sooth," said Segramour, 

" My ae brother, I '11 gang wi' thee." 

9 
They twa hae biggit a bonny boat, 

And they hae set her to the sea ; 
But a mile before they reached the land, 

Around them 'gan the red fire flee. 

io 

The worm leapt out, the worm leapt down, 
She plaited nine times round stock and stane ; 

And aye as the boat came to the beach 
She struck and banged it off again, 
"borrowed," rescued. 



Kemp ion 75 

II 

" Mind how you steer, my brother dear : 
Ke^p further off! " said Segramour ; 

" This beast will drown us in the sea, 
Or burn us up, if we come on shore. " 

12 

Syne Kempion has bent an arblast bow, 

And aimed an arrow at her head ; 
And swore, if she didna quit the shore, 

Wi' that same shaft to shoot her dead. 

13 

" Out o' my sty the I winna rise, 

Nor quit my den for awe o' thee, 
Till Kempion, the king's own son, 

Come to the crag and thrice kiss me." 

H 

He 's louted him o'er the Estmere Crags, 

And he has gi'en that beast a kiss : 
In she swang, and again she cam', 

And aye her speech was a wicked hiss. 

15 

6 ' Out o' my stythe I winna rise, 
Nor quit my den for the fear o' thee, 

Till Kempion, that courteous knight, 
Come to the crag and thrice kiss me." 

16 
He's louted him o'er the Estmere Crag, 

And he has gi'en her kisses twa : 
In she swang, and again she cam', 

The fieriest beast that ever you saw. 
" stythe," staying-place. " louted,'' bended. 



76 The Ballad Book 

*7 

"Out o' my sty the I winna rise, 
Nor quit my den for the dread o' thee, 

Till Kempion, that noble prince, 

Come to the crag and thrice kiss me. * 



He *s louted him o'er the lofty crag, 
And he has gi'en her kisses three : 

In she swang, a loathly worm ; 
And out she stepped, a fair ladye. 

19 

Nae deeding had this lady fair, 
To keep her body frae the cold ; 

Put Kempion took his mantle off, 
And around his ain true love did fold. 



"And by my sooth," says Kempion, 
" My ain true love ! — for this is she, — 

They surely had a heart o' stane, 
Could put thee to this misery. 

21 
" O was it wer-wolf in the wood, 

Or was it mermaid in the sea, 
Or a wicked man, or a vile woman, 

My ain true love, that mis-shaped thee ? " 

22 
" It wasna wer-wolf in the wood, 

Nor was it mermaid in the sea ; 
But it was my wicked stepmother, 

And wae and weary may she be ! " 



Johnnie of Braidislee 77 

■ 23 
" O, a heavy weird sail her light on ; 

Her hair sail grow rough, and her teeth grow lang ; 

And aye upon four feet maun she gang ; 
" And aye in Wormeswood sail she wonn ! " 



xx 

JOHNNIE OF BRAIDISLEE. 

1 

JOHNNIE rose up in a May morning, 
Called for water to wash his hands : 
"Gar loose to me the twa gray dogs, 
That are bound wi' iron bands." 

2 
When Johnnie's mother gat word o' that, 

Her hands for dule she wrang : 
" O Johnnie ! for my blessing, 

To the greenwood dinna gang ! 

3 

" Eneugh ye hae o J gude wheat bread, 
And eneugh o' the blude-red wine ; 

And therefore for nae venison, Johnnie, 
I pray thee, stir frae hame. " 

4 
But Johnnie 's buskit his gude bend-bow, 

His arrows, ane by ane, 
And he has gane to Durrisdeer 
To hunt the dun deer down. 
* wonn," dwell. "dule," grief. " buskit," prepared. 



78 The Ballad Book 

5 

He lookit east, and he lookit west, 

And a little below the sun ; 
And there he spied a dun deer lying 

Aneath a bush o' broom. 

6 

Johnnie he shot and the dun deer lap, 
And he wounded her on the side, 

But atween the water and the brae 
His hounds they laid her pride. 

7 
And Johnnie has brittled the deer sae weel, 

Ta'en out her liver and lungs ; 
And wi' these he has feasted his bluidy hounds, 

As if they had been earl's sons. 



They ate their fill o' the venison, 

And drank their fill o' the blude ; 
And Johnnie and his twa gude hounds 

Fell asleep as they had been dead. 

9 

By there came a silly auld carle, 

A silly auld carle was he ; 
And he is aff to the proud foresters, 

To tell what he did see. 

io 

"Now why sae fast, thou gray -headed carle? 

What news, what news, bring ye ? " 
11 1 bring nae news," said the gray -headed carle, 

" Save what these eyes did see. 



yohnnie of Braidislee 79 

11 

" As I came over by Merriemass, 

And doun amang the scroggs, 
The bonniest chiel that ever I saw 

Lay sleeping atween twa dogs. 

12 

"The shirt he wore upon his back, 

It was o' the Holland fine ; 
The doublet that he wore over that, 

It was o' the Lincoln twine. 

13 

" The buttons that were upon his sleeve, 

Were made o' the goud sae gude ; 
The great gray dogs that he lay atween, 

Their mouths were dyed wi' blude. " 

14 

Then out and spak' the First Forester, 

The head man ower them a' : 
"Gin this be Johnnie o' Braidislee, 

Nae nearer will he draw." 

15 

But out spak' the Seventh Forester, 

(His sister's son was he) : 
" If this be Johnnie o' Braidislee, 

We sune sail gar him die ! " 

16 

The first flight of arrows the Foresters shot, 

They wounded him on the knee ; 
And ane to anither the Foresters said, 

* ' The next will gar him dee. " 

" scroggs," low bushes. 



80 The Ballad Book 

17 

Johnnie has set his back to an aik, 

His foot against a stane ; 
He has shot against the Foresters, 

Though they be seven to ane. 

18 
" Stand stout, stand stout, my noble hounds, 

Stand stout, and dinna flee ! 
Stand fast, stand fast, my gude gray dogs, 

And we will mak' them dee ! " 

19 
Johnnie he shot twa Foresters, 

His hounds they pu'd doun three ; 
Out shot the Master Forester, 

Strak' Johnnie aboon the bree. 

20 
" O is there nae bird in a' this forest 

Will do as mickle for me 
As dip its wing in the wan water 

And straik it on my ee-bree ? 

21 

" O is there nae bird in a' the forest 

To sing as I can say, — 
To flee fu' fast to my mither's window, 

And bid fetch Johnnie away?" 

22 
They made a rod o' the hazel bush, 

Anither o' slae-thorn tree, 
And mony were the men, I trow, 

At fetching hame Johnnie. 

"bree," brow. 



The Birth of Robin Hood 

23 
Out and spak' his auld mither, 

And fast her tears did fa' : 
" Ye wadna be warned, my son Johnnie, 

Frae the hunting to bide awa' ! " 

24 
Now Johnnie's gude bend-bow is broke, 

And his gude gray dogs are slain ; 
And his body lies dead in Durrisdeer ; 

And his hunting it is done. 



XXI 

THE BIRTH OF ROBIiV HOOD 



O WILLIE 's large o' limb and lith, 
And come o' high degree ; 
And he has gone to Earl Richard 
To serve for meat and fee. 

2 
Earl Richard had but ae daughter, 

Fair as a lily flower ; 
And they made up their love-contract 

Like proper paramour. 

3 

It fell upon a simmer's nicht, 

Whan the leaves were fair and green, 
That Willie met his gay ladie 

Intil the wood alane. 

"lith, "joint. 



82 The Ballad Book 

4 

"O narrow is my gown, Willie, 
That wont to be sae wide, 

And gane is a' my fair color, 
That wont to be my pride. 

5 
" But gin my father should get word 

What 's past between us twa, 
Before that he should eat or drink, 

He 'd hang you o'er that wa'. 

6 

"But ye '11 come to my bower, Willie, 

At the setting o' the sun ; 
And kep me in your arms twa, 

And letna me fa' down." 

7 
O whan the sun was near gane down, 

He 's doen him till her bower ; 
And there, by the lee licht o' the moon, 

Her window she lookit o'er. 



Intill a robe o' red scarlet 

She lap, and caught nae harm ; 

Willie was large o' lith and limb, 
And keepit her in his arm. 

9 

And they 've gane to the gude greenwood, 

And ere the night was dune, 
She 's borne to him a bonny young son, 

Amang the leaves sae green, 
"lee," calm. "kep," catch. 



The Birth of Robin Hood 83 

10 

When night was gane and day was come, 

And the sun began to peep, 
Up and raise the Earl Richard 

Out o' his drowsy sleep. 

11 

He 's ca'd upon his merry young men, 

By ane, by twa, and by three, 
"O what's come o' my daughter dear, 

That she 's na come to me ? 

12 

" I dreamt a dreary dream last night, — 

God grant it come to gude ! 
I dreamt I saw my daughter dear 

Drown in the saut sea flood. 

13 

" My daughter, maybe, is dead or sick ; 

Or gin she be stown awa', 
I male' a vow, and I '11 keep it true, 

I '11 hang ye ane and a' ! " 

14 

They sought her back, they sought her fore, 

They sought her up and down ; 
They got her in the gude greenwood 

Nursing her bonny young son. 

15 

He took the bonny boy in his arms, 

And kist him tenderlie ; 
Says, "Though I would your father hang, 

Your mother's dear to me." 



84 The Ballad Book 

16 

He kist him o'er and o'er again ; 

' * My grandson I thee claim ; 
And Robin Hood in gude greenwood, 

'T is that shall be your name. " 

17 

There 's mony ane sings o' grass, o' grass, 
And mony ane sings o' corn ; 

And mony ane sings o' Robin Hood, 
Kens little whar' he was born. 

18 
It was na in the ha', the ha', 

Nor in the painted bower ; 
But it was in the gude greenwood, 

Amang the lily flower. 



XXII 

FAIR ANNIE 



THE reivers they stole Fair Annie, 
As she walked by the sea ; 
But a noble knight was her ransom soon, 
Wi' goud and white monie. 

2 
She bided in strangers' land wi' him, 

And none knew whence she came ; 
She lived in the castle wi' her love, 

But never told her name. 

" reivers," takers by violence, robbers, pirates. 



Fair Annie 85 

3 

"It's narrow, narrow, mak' your bed, 

And learn to lie your lane ; 
For I 'm gaun o'er the sea. Fair Annie, 

A braw Bride to bring hame. 
Wi' her I will get goud and gear, 

Wi' you I ne'er gat nane. 

4 
44 And wha will bake my bridal bread, 

-Or brew my bridal ale ? 
And wha will welcome my bright Bride, 

That I bring o'er the dale." 

5 
"It's I will bake your bridal bread, 

And brew your bridal ale ; 
And I will welcome your bright Bride, 

That you bring o'er the dale/' 

6 

44 But she that welcomes my bright Bride 

Maun gang like maiden fair ; 
She maun lace up her robe sae jimp, 

And comely braid her hair. 

7 
4 4 Bind up, bind up your yellow hair, 

And tie it on your neck ; 
And see you look as maiden-like 

As the day that first we met." 

8 
44 O how can I gang maiden-like, 

When maiden I am nane ? 
Have I not borne six sons to thee, 
And am wi' child again ? " 
"jimp," trim. 



86 The Ballad Book 

9 

" I '11 put cooks into my kitchen, 

And stewards in my hall, 
And I '11 have bakers for my bread, 

And brewers for my ale ; 
But you 're to welcome my bright Bride, 

That I bring owre the dale." 

io 

Three months and a day were gane and past, 

Fair Annie she gat word, 
That her love's ship was come at last, 

Wi' his bright young Bride aboard. 

n 

She 's ta'en her young son in her arms, 

Anither in her hand ; 
And she 's gane up to the highest tower, 

Looks over sea and land. 

12 

" Come doun, come doun, my mother dear, 

Come aff the castle wa' ! 
I fear if langer ye stand there, 

Ye '11 let yoursell doun fa'." 

13 
She 's ta'en a cake o' the best bread, 

A stoup o' the best wine ; 
And a' the keys upon her arm, 

And to the yett is gane. 

" O ye 're welcome hame, my ain gude lord, 
To your castles and your towers ; 

Ye 're welcome hame, my ain glide lord, 
To your ha's, but and your bowers, 
"yett," gate. 



Fair Annie 87 

And welcome to your hame, fair lady ! 
For a' that 's here is yours. " 

15 

' ' O whatna lady 's that, my lord, 

That welcomes you and me ? 
Gin I be lang about this place, 

Her friend I mean to be. " 

16 
Fair Annie served the lang tables 

Wi' the white bread and the wine ; 
But aye she drank the wan water 

To keep her color fine. 

17 

And she gaed by the first table, 

And smiled upon them a' ; 
But ere she reached the second table, 

The tears began to fa'. 

18 
She took a napkin lang and white, 

And hung it on a pin ; 
It was to wipe away the tears, 

As she gaed out and in. 

19 

When bells were rung and mass was sung, 

And a' men bound for bed, 
The bridegroom and the bonny bride 
In ae chamber were laid. 

20 

Fair Annie 's ta'en a harp in her hand, 
To harp thir twa asleep ; 



The Ballad Book 

But aye, as she harpit and she sang, 
Fu' sairly did she weep. 

21 

1 i O gin my sons were seven rats, 

Rinning on the castle wa', 
And I mysell a great gray cat, 

I soon wad worry them a' ! 

22 

" O gin my sons were seven hares, 

Rinnin o'er yon lily lee, 
And I mysell a gude greyhound. 

Soon worried they a' should be ! " 

23 
Then out and spak' the bonny young Bride, 

In bride-bed where she lay : 
" That's like my sister Annie/' she says ; 

" Wha is it doth sing and play ? 

24 
" I '11 put on my gown," said the new-come Bride, 

" And my shoes upon my feet ; 
I will see wha doth sae sadly sing, 

And what is it gars her greet. 

25 
* * What ails you, what ails you, my housekeeper, 

That ye mak' sic a mane ? 
Has ony wine-barrel cast its girds, 

Or is a' your white bread gane ? " 

26 
" It is na because my wine is spilt, 
Or that my white bread 's gane ; 



Fair Annie 

But because I 've lost my true love's love, 
And he 's wed to anither ane." 



" Noo tell me wha was your father ? " she says, 
" Noo tell me wha was your mother ? 

And had ye ony sister ? " she says, 
" And had ye ever a brother ? " 

28 
" The Earl of Wemyss was my father, 

The Countess of Wemyss my mother, 
Young Elinor she was my sister dear, 

And Lord John he was my brother." 

29 
" If the Earl of Wemyss was your father, 

I wot sae was he mine ; 
And it 's O my sister Annie ! 

Your love ye sail na tyne. 

30 
1 * Tak' your husband, my sister dear ; 

You ne'er were wranged for me, 
Beyond a kiss o' his merry mouth 

As we came o'er the sea. 

31 

''Seven ships, loaded weel, 

Came o'er the sea wi J me ; 
Ane o' them will tak' me hame, 

And six I '11 gie to thee." 

" tyne," lose. 



90 The Ballad Book 

XXIII 

CHILDE MAURICE 



CHILDE MAURICE was a handsome young man, 
His locks waved wi' the wind ; 
He rode about in the merry greenwood, 
And hunted the hart and hind. 

2 

He called to his little foot-page, 

" You don't see what I see ; 
For yonder I see the very first woman 

That ever loved me. 

3 
" Here is a glove, a glove/' he says, 

" Edged wi' the silver gris ; 
Bid that lady come to Silver-wood, 

To speak to Childe Maurice. 

4 
" Here is a ring, a ring/' he says, 

"It's set wi' an emerald stane ; 
Tell her to come to Silver- wood, 

And ask the leave o' nane." 

5 
" Well do I love you, my master dear, 

But better I love my life. 
Would ye have me go to John Steward's castle, 
To tryst away his wife ? " 

" gris," a costly fur. 



Childe Maurice 91 



" O don't I give you meat ? " he says, 

" And don't I pay you fee ? 
I '11 gar your body bleed," he says, 

" Gin my word you won't obey." 

7 
When the boy he came to John Steward's castle, 

He ran right through the gate, 
Until he came to the high, high hall 

Where great folks sat at meat. 



" Here is a glove, my lady," he says, 
"Edged wi' the silver gris ; 

You 're bidden to come to Silver- wood, 
And speak to Childe Maurice. 

9 
1 ' Here is a ring, my lady, " he says, 

" It is set wi' an emerald stane ; 
You're bidden to come to Silver-wood, 

And ask the leave o' nane. " 



The lady she stamped wi' her foot, 

And winked wi' her e'e ; 
But for a' that she could say or do, 

Forbidden he wadna be. 

11 

Out then spak' her bower-woman ; 

A wily woman was she : 
" If this be come frae Childe Maurice, 

It 's dearly welcome to me ! " 



92 The Ballad Book 

12 

"Thou liest, thou liest," says the little boy, 

" Sae loud as I hear thee lie ! 
I brought it to John Steward's lady ; 

I trow thou binna she. " 

John Steward he quickly rose from the table ; 

An angry man was he : 
* 4 1 little thought there was man in the world 

My lady loved but me!" 

H 

O he dressed himself in his lady's gown, 

And a wimple over his face ; 
And he is away to Silver-wood, 

Sae well as he knew that place. 

15 

Merry it was in Silver- wood, 

Amang the leaves sae fair ; 
Childe Maurice he sat upon a stane, 

Kaiming his yellow hair. 

16 

Gil Morice he climbed on yonder tree, 

He whistled and he sang : 
" Wae is me ! " says Childe Maurice ; 

" My mother tarries lang ! " 

17 

Childe Maurice came quickly out of the tree, 

His mother to lift from her horse : 
" O what is here ? " says Childe Maurice ; 
"My mother was ne'er so gross ! " 

" wimple," veil. 



Childe Maurice 93 

1 

18 
"Nae wonder, nae wonder," John Steward thinks, 

" My lady should lo'e thee weel ; 
The fairest part o' my bodie 

Is blacker than thy heel ! " 

19 
John Steward he had a sharp, sharp sword, 

That hung low down by his knee ; 
He slew Childe Maurice, cut off his head, 

And his body put in a tree. 

20 
And when he came to his castle, 

And into his lady's hall, 
He threw the head into her lap, 

Says, " Lady there is a ball ! " 

21 

Says, " Canst thou know Childe Maurice's head, 

When that thou dost it see ? 
Now lap it soft, and kiss it oft, 

For thou loved'st him better than me." 

22 
But when she looked on Childe Maurice, 

Her answer thus made she : 
1 ' I never bare a child but one, 

And you have slain him, truly e." 

23 
And she hath ta'en the bloody head, 

And kissed it, cheek and chin : 
"I was once as fu' o' Childe Maurice 

As the haw is o' the stane ! 



94 The Ballad Book 

24 
" I bare thee in my father's house, 

Wi* mickle sin and shame ; 
I brought thee up in good greenwood 

Under the dew and rain." 

25 
And syne she kissed him on the mouth, 

She kissed him on the chin : 
"O better I lo'ed my Childe Maurice 

Than a' my kith and kin ! " 

26 
"Oan evil chance ! " John Steward he said, 

And a waefu' man was he ; 
" If you had told me he was your son, 

He had never been slain by me." 



XXIV 

BROWN ROBYN'S CONFESSION 

1 

IT fell upon a Wodensday 
Brown Robyn's men went to sea ; 
But they saw neither moon nor sun 
Nor starlight wi' their e'e. 

2 
* ' We '11 cast kevels us amang, 
See wha the man may be " : 
The kevel fell on Brown Robyn, 
The master-man was hee. 
"kevels," lots. 



Brown Robyrfs Confession 95 

3 

" It is nae wonder," said Brown Robyn, 

" Altho' I dinna thrive ; 
[For I murthered my ain auld father," says he ; 

' ' I would he were yet alive !] 

4 

* ' But tie me to a plank o' wood, 

And throw me in the sea ; 
And if I sink, ye may bid me sink, 

If I [swim] just lat me be." 

5 
They 've tied him to a plank o' wood, 

And thrown him in the sea ; 
He didna sink, tho' they bade him sink, 

He swimmed, and they bade lat him be, 

6 

He hadna been into the sea 

An hour but barely three, 
Till by and came Our Blessed Ladie, 

Her dear young son her wi'. 

7 
" Will ye gang to your men again ? 

Or will ye gang wi' me ? 
Will ye gang to the high heavens 

Wi' my dear son and me ? " 



" I winna gang to my men again ? 

For they wou'd be feared at me ; 
But I wou'd gang to the high heavens 

Wi' thy dear son and thee. " 



96 The Ballad Book 

9 
" It's for nae honor ye did, Brown Robyn, 

It 's for nae gude ye did to me ; 
But it 's a' for your fair confession 

You've made upon the sea." 



xxv. 
THE JOLLY GOSHAWK. 



" f~\ WELL is me, my jolly goshawk, 
V^ That you can speak and flee ; 

For you can carry a love-letter 
To my true love frae me." 

2 

" O how can I carry a letter to her, 

Or how should I her know ? 
I bear a tongue ne'er wi' her spak', 

And eyes that ne'er her saw. " 

3 

" The white o' my love's skin is white 

As down o' dove or maw ; 
The red o' my love's cheek is red 

As blood that's spilt on snaw. 

4 
" When ye come to the castle, 

Light on the tree of ash, 
And sit you there and sing our loves 
As she comes frae the mass. 

"maw," mew, sea-gull. 



The Jolly Goshawk 97 

5 
" Four and twenty fair ladies 

Will to the mass repair ; 
And weel may ye my lady ken, 

The fairest lady there." 

6 

When the goshawk flew to that castle, 

He lighted on the ash ; 
And there he sat and sang their loves 

As she came frae the mass. 

7 
" Stay where ye be, my maidens a', 

And sip red wine anon, 
Till I go to my west window 

And hear a birdie's moan." 



She 's gane unto her west window, 

The bolt she fainly drew; 
And into that lady's white, white neck 

The bird a letter threw. 

' 9 
" Ye 're bidden to send your love a send, 

For he has sent you twa ; 
And tell him where he may see you soon, 

Or he cannot live ava. " 

10 

" I send him the ring from my finger, 

The garland off my hair, 
I send him the heart that's in my breast ; 

What would my love have mair ? 
And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland, 

Ye '11 bid him wait for me there." 
7 



98 The Ballad Book 

11 

She hied her to her father dear 

As fast as gang could she : 
" I 'm sick at the heart, my father dear ; 

An asking grant you me ! " 
" Ask me na for that Scottish lord, 

For him ye '11 never see ! " 

12 

" An asking, an asking, dear father !" she says, 

6 ' An asking grant you me ; 
That if I die in fair England, 

In Scotland ye '11 bury me. 

13 

" At the first kirk o' fair Scotland, 

You cause the bells be rung ; 
At the second kirk o' fair Scotland, 

You cause the mass be sung ; 

H 

" At the third kirk o' fair Scotland, 

You deal gold for my sake ; 
At the fourth kirk o' fair Scotland, 

there you '11 bury me at ! 

15 

1 ' This is all my asking, father, 

1 pray you grant it me ! " 
"Your asking is but small/' he said ; 

' ' Weel granted it shall be. 
But why do you talk o* suchlike things ? 
For ye arena going to dee. " 



The yolly Goshawk 99 

16 
The lady's gane to her chamber, 

And a moanfu' woman was she, 
As gin she had ta'en a sudden brash, 

And were about to dee. 

17 

The lady's gane to her chamber 

As fast as she could fare ; 
And she has drunk a sleepy draught, 

She mixed it wi' mickle care. 

18 
She 's fallen into a heavy trance, 

And pale and cold was she ; 
She seemed to be as surely dead 

As ony corpse could be. 

19 
Out and spak' an auld witch- wife, 

At the fireside sat she : 
Gin she has killed hersell for love, 

I wot it weel may be : 

20 
" But drap the het lead on her cheek, 

And drap it on her chin, 
And drap it on her bosom white, 

And she '11 maybe speak again. 
'T is much that a young lady will do 

To her true love to win." 

21 
They drapped the het led on her cheek, 

They drapped it on her chin, 
They drapped it on her bosom white, 
But she spake none again. 

" brash," attack of illness. 



IOO The Ballad Book 

22 

Her brothers they went to a room, 

To make to her a bier ; 
The boards were a' o' the cedar wood, 

The edges o' silver clear. 

23 
Her sisters they went to a room, 

To make to her a sark ; 
The cloth was a' o' the satin fine, 

And the stitching silken-wark. 

24 
"Now well is me, my jolly goshawk, 

That ye can speak and flee ! 
Come show me any love-tokens 

That you have brought to me." 

25 
" She sends you the ring frae her white finger, 

The garland frae her hair ; 
She sends you the heart within her breast ; 

And what would you have mair ? 
And at the fourth kirk o' fair Scotland, 

She bids you wait for her there." 

26 
"Come hither, all my merry young men ! 

And drink the good red wine ; 
For we must on towards fair England 

To free my love frae pine. " 

27 
The funeral came into fair Scotland, 

And they gart the bells be rung ; 
And when it came to the second kirk, 

They gart the mass he sung. 



The jfolly Goshawk 

28 
And when it came to the third kirk, 

They dealt gold for her sake ; 
And when it came to the fourth kirk, 

Her love was waiting thereat. 

29 
At the fourth kirk in fair Scotland 

Stood spearmen in a row ; 
And up and started her ain true love, 

The chieftain over them a'. 

30 

" Set down, set down the bier," he says, 

"Till I look upon the dead ; 
The last time that I saw her face, 

Its color was warm and red. " 

31 

He stripped the sheet from aff her face 

A little below the chin ; 
The lady then she opened her eyes, 

And looked full on him. 

32 
1 ' O give me a shive o' your bread, love, 

O give me a cup o' your wine ! 
Long have I fasted for your sake, 

And now I fain would dine. 

33 
' ' Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brothers, 

Gae hame and blaw the horn ! 
And ye may say that ye sought my skaith, 
And that I hae gi'en you the scorn. 
" shive," slice. " skaith," injury. 



The Ballad Book 

34 
"I cam' nae here to bonnie Scotland 

To lie down in the clay ; 
But I cam' here to bonny Scotland 

To wear the silks sae gay ! 

35 
" I cam' na here to bonnie Scotland 

Amang the dead to rest ; 
But I cam' here to bonnie Scotland 

To the man that I lo'e best ! " 



XXVI 

ALISON GROSS. 



O ALISON GROSS, that lives in yon tower, 
The ugliest witch in the north countrie, 
She trysted me ae day up till her bower, 
And mony fair speeches she made to me. 

2 
She straiked my head, and she kaimed my hair, 

And she set me doun saftly on her knee ; 
Says, " Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, 

Sae mony braw things as I would you gie ! n 

3 
She shaw'd me a mantle o' red scarlett, 
Wi' gouden flowers and fringes fine ; 
Says, " Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, 
This gudely gift it sail be thine." 
" lemman," sweetheart. 



Alison Gross 103 

4 

" Awa', awa', ye ugly witch, 

Haud far awa', and lat me be ! 
I never will be your lemman sae true, 

And I wish I were out o' your company." 

5 
She neist brought a sark o' the saftest silk, 

Well wrought wi' pearls about the band ; 
Says, " Gin ye will be my ain true love, 

This gudely gift ye sail command." 

6 
She shaw'd me a cup o' the glide red goud, 

Weel set in jewels sae fair to see ; 
Says, " Gin ye will be my lemman sae true, 

This gudely gift I will ye gie. " 

7 
"Awa', awa', ye ugly witch, 

Haud far awa', and lat me be ! 
For I wadna ance kiss your ugly mouth 

For a' the gifts that you could gie." 



She 's turned her richt and round about, 
And thrice she blew on a grass -green horn ; 

And she sware by the moon and the stars aboon 
That she 'd gar me rue the day I was born. 

9 
Then out has she ta'en a silver wand, 

And she 's turned her three times round and round ; 
She 's muttered sic words that my strength is failed, 
And I fell doun senseless on the ground, 
"sark," shirt. 



104 The Ballad Book 

10 

She turned me into an ugly worm, 
And gar'd me twine about the tree ; 

And aye on ilka Saturday's night 
Alison Gross she cam' to me ; 

II 

Wi' silver basin and silver kaim, 
To kaim my headie upon her knee ; 

But ere that I 'd kiss her ugly mouth, 
I 'd sooner gae twining around the tree. 

12 

But as it fell out, on last Hallowe'en, 
When the Seely Court cam 1 ridin' by, 

The Queen lighted down on a go wan bank, 
Close by the tree where I wont to lie. 

She took me up in her milkwhite hand, 
She straiked me three times o'er her knee ; 

She changed me back to my proper shape, 
And nae mair do I twine about the tree. 



JOHNNIE ARMSTRONG 

1 

IS there ever a man in all Scotland, 
From the highest estate to the lowest degree, 
That can show himself now before our King, 
Scotland 's so full of treacherie ? 

'gowan," daisy. 

1 the Seely Court," the Happy Court, i. e. of the Fairies. 



Johnnie Armstrong 105 

2 

There dwelt a man in fair Westmorland, 
Johnnie Armstrong they did him call ; 

He had neither lands nor rents coming in, 
Yet eightscore men he kept in his hall. 

3 

He had horses and harness for them all, 
Goodly steeds that were all milkwhite, 

Goodly bands about their necks, 
Wi' hats and feathers all alike. 

4 

But news was brought unto the King 

That there was sic a one as he, 
That lived like a bold outlaw. 

And robbed all the north countrie. 

5 
The King he sent a broad letter 

Signed wi' his own hand so lovinglie, 
And hath bidden Johnnie Armstrong therein 

To come and speak wi' him speedilie. 

6 
When Johnnie looked this letter upon, 

His heart was blithe as bird on tree : 
* ' I was never before a King in my life, 

My father, my grandfather, none of us three. 

7 
"And now, since we're going before the King, 

Lord, we will go most gallantlie ! 
Ye shaH ever} 7 one have a velvet coat, 

Laid down wi' golden laces three. 



106 The Ballad Book 

8 
" Ye shall every one have a scarlet cloak, 

Laid down wi' silver laces white ; 
Wi' your golden bands about your necks, 

Black hats, white feathers, all alike. n 

9 

But when Johnnie went from Giltnock Hall, 
The wind blew hard, and fast did it rain : 

" Now fare thee well, thou Giltnock Hall ! 
I fear I shall never see thee again. " 



Now Johnnie he is to Edinborough gone, 
Wi' his eights core men so gallantlie ; 

Every one on a milkwhite steed, 
Wi' sword and buckler at his knee. 

ii 

When Johnnie came before the King, 

He fell down low upon his knee : 
" O pardon, my sovereign liege ! " he said, 

" O pardon my eightscore men and me ! " 

12 

"Thou shalt have no pardon, thou traitor strong 
For those thy eightscore men nor thee ; 

To-morrow morning, by ten o' the clock, 
Ye all shall hang on the gallows-tree/' 

13 

Then Johnnie looked over his left shoulder, 
And to his merry men thus said he : 

" I have asked grace of a graceless face ; 
No pardon there is for you and me." 



Johnnie Armstrong 107 

H 

At Johnnie's belt was a bright broadsword, 
That swiftly out of his sheath pulled he ; 

And had not the King moved his foot aside, 
He had smitten the head from his fair bodie. 

15 

Saying, " Fight on my merry men all, 

And see that none of you be ta'en ; 
Rather than men shall say we were hanged, 

Let them report how we were slain. " 

16 

Then, I wot, fair Edinborough rose, 

And so beset poor Johnnie around, 
That fourscore and ten of John's best men 

Lay gasping there on bloody ground. 

17 

Like a bold fellow John laid about, 
And like a madman there fought he ; 

Till a false Scot drew in behind, 
And ran him through the fair bodie. 

18 

Says Johnnie, " Fight on, my merry men all ! 

I 'm a little wounded, but I 'm not slain ; 
I will lay me down to bleed awhile, 

And then rise and fight with you again." 

19 

So they fought on courageously, 

Till every man of them was slain ; 
But little Musgrave, that was Johnnie's foot-page, 

On his master's horse rode off unta'en. 



108 The Ballad Book 

20 
But when he came to Giltnock Hall, 

The lady spied him presentlie : 
" What news, what news, thou little foot-page? 

What news from thy master, and his companie ! 

21 

" My news is bad news, lady," he said, 

" And very bad as you may see ; 
My master, Johnnie Armstrong, is slain, 

And all his gallant companie." 

22 
Out then spake his little son, 

As he stood by his nurse's knee : 
%< If ever I live to be a man, 

I'll revenge my father's death," said he. 



XXVIII 

KATHARINE JANFARIE 



THERE was a may, and a weel-fared may, 
Lived high up in yon glen : 
Her name was Katharine Janfarie, 
She was courted by mony men. 

2 
Doun cam' the Laird o' Lamington, 

Doun frae the South Countrie ; 
And he is for this bonny lass, 

Her bridegroom for to be. 



Katharine Janfarie 109 

3 

He asked no her father and mither, 

Xor the chief o' a' her kin ; 
But he whispered the bonny lass hersel', 

And did her favor win. 

4 

Doun cam' an English gentleman, 

Doun frae the English border ; 
He is for this bonny lass, 

To keep his house in order. . 

5 

He asked her father and mither, 

And a* the lave o 1 her kin • 
But he never asked the lassie; hersel' 

Till on her wedding-e'en. 

6 

But she has wrote a long letter, 

And sealed it with her hand ; 
And sent it away to Lamington, 

To let him understand. 

7 
The first line o' the letter he read, 

He was baith fain and glad ; 
But or he has read the letter o'er, 

He 's turned baith wan and sad. 



Then he has sent a messenger, 
To run through all his land ; 

And four and twenty 7 armed men 
Were all at his command. 



The Ballad Book 

9 

But he has left his merry men all, 

Left them on the lee ; 
Aad he 's awa' to the wedding-house, 

To see what he could see. 



They all rose up to honor him, 

For he was of high renown ; 
They all rose up to welcome him, 

And bade him to sit down. 

II 

mickle was the gude red wine 
In silver cups did flow ; 

But aye she drank to Lamington, 
And fain with him would go. 

12 

" O come ye here to fight, young lord ? 

Or come ye here to play ? 
Or come ye here to drink gude wine 

Upon the wedding-day ? " 

13 

"I come na here to fight," he said, 
* ' I come na here to play ; 

1 '11 but lead a dance wi' the bonny bride, 

And mount and go my way." 

H 

He 's caught her by the milk-white hand, 
And by the grass-green sleeve ; 

He 's mounted her hie behind himsel', 
At her kinsfolk spier'd na leave, 
"spier'd," asked. 



Robin Hood and the Widow* s Sons 

15 
It's up, it's up the Couden bank, 

It 's doun the Couden brae ; 
And aye they made the trumpet sound, 

"It's a' fair play !" 

16 

Now, a' ye lords and gentlemen 

That be of England born, 
Come ye na doun to Scotland thus, 

For fear ye get the scorn ! 

17 

They '11 feed ye up wi' flattering words, 

And play ye foul play ; 
They '11 dress you frogs instead of fish 

Upon your wedding-day ! 



ROBIN HOOD RESCUING THE WIDOW'S 
THREE SONS 



THERE are twelve months in all the year, 
As I hear many say, 
But the merriest month in all the year 
Is the merry month of May. 

2 
Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, 

With a link a down, and a day, 
And there he met a silly old woman, 

Was weeping on the way. 



112 The Ballad Book 



1 ' What news ? what news ? thou silly old woman, 

What news hast thou for me ? " 
Said she, "There 's my three sons in Nottingham town 

To-day condemned to die." 

4 
" O, have they parishes burnt ? " he said, 

' ' Or have they ministers slain ? 
Or have they robbed any virgin ? 

Or other men's wives have ta'en ? " 

5 
" They have no parishes burnt, good sir, 

Nor yet have ministers slain, 
Nor have they robbed any virgin, 

Nor other men's wives have ta'en." 

6 

"O, what have they done?" said Robin Hood, 

" I pray thee tell to me." 
"It 's for slaying of the king's fallow-deer, 

Bearing their long bows with thee. " 

7 
"Dost thou not mind, old woman," he said, 

* ' How thou madest me sup and dine ? 
By the truth of my body," quoth bold Robin Hood, 

"You could not tell it in better time." 



Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, 
. With a link a down, and a day, 
And there he met with a silly old palmer, 
Was walking along the highway. 

"palmer," pilgrim. 



Robin Hood and the Widow? s Sons 113 

9 
" What news ? what news ? thou silly old man, 

What news, I do thee pray ? " 
Said he, " Three squires in Nottingham town 

Are condemned to die this day." 

10 

"Come change thy apparel with me, old man, 

Come change thy apparel for mine ; 
Here is ten shillings in good silver, 

Go drink it in beer or wine." 

11 

"O, thine apparel is good," he said, 

" And mine is ragged and torn ; 
Wherever you go, wherever you ride, 

Laugh not an old man to scorn. " 

12 

" Come change thy apparel with me, old churl, 
Come change thy apparel with mine ; 

Here is a piece of good broad gold, 
Go feast thy brethren with wine. " 

13 

Then he put on the old man's hat, 

It stood full high on the crown : 
4 ' The first bold bargain that I come at, 

It shall make thee come down." 

H 

Then he put on the old man's cloak, 

Was patched black, blue, and red ; 
He thought it no shame, all the day long, 

To wear the ba°;s of bread. 



ii4 The Ballad Book 

15 

Then he put on the old man's breeks, 

Was patched from leg to side : 
" By the truth of my body," bold Robin can say, 

"This man loved little pride." 

16 
Then he put on the old man's hose, 

Were patched from knee to wrist : 
"By the truth of my body," said bold Robin Hood, 

"I'd laugh if I had any list." 

17 

Then he put on the old man's shoes, 
Were patched both beneath and aboon ; 

Then Robin Hood swore a solemn oath, 
" It 's good habit that makes a man." 

18 
Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, 

With a link a down and a dcnvn, 
And there he met with the proud sheriff, 

Was walking along the town. 

19 

" Save you, save you, sheriff ! " he said ; 

" Now heaven you save and see ! 
And what will you give to a silly old man 

To-day will your hangman be ? " 

20 

" Some suits, some suits," the sheriff he said, 

" Some suits I '11 give to thee ; 
Some suits, some suits, and pence thirteen, 

To-day's a hangman's fee." 



Robin Hood and the Widen*? s Sons i 

21 

Then Robin he turns him round about, 

And jumps from stock to stone : 
" By the truth of my body," the sheriff he said, 

" That's well jumpt, thou nimble old man." 

22 
" I was ne'er a hangman in all my life, 

Nor yet intends to trade ; 
But curst he be/' said bold Robin, 

" That first a hangman was made ! 

23 
"I Ve a bag for meal, and a bag for malt, 

And a bag for barley and corn ; 
A bag for bread, and a bag for beef, 

And a bag for my little small horn. 

24 
" I have a horn in my pocket, 

I got it from Robin Hood, 
And still when I set it to my mouth, 

For thee it blows little good." 

25 
"O, wind thy horn, thou proud fellow ! 

Of thee I have no doubt. 
I wish that thou give such a blast, 

Till both thy eyes fall out." 

26 
The first loud blast that he did blow, 

He blew both loud and shrill ; 
A hundred and fifty of Robin Hood's men 

Came riding over the hill. 



n6 The Ballad Book 

27 
The next loud blast that he did give, 

He blew both loud and amain, 
And quickly sixty of Robin Hood's men 

Came shining over the plain. 

28 
"O, who are those," the sheriff he said, 

" Come tripping over the lee ? " 
" They 're my attendants," brave Robin did say ; 

"They '11 pay a visit to thee." 

29 
They took the gallows from the slack, 

They set it in the glen, 
They hanged the proud sheriff on that, 

Released their own three men. 



XXX 

FAIR ANNIE OF LOCHROYAN 



"f~\ WHA will shoe my bonny foot, 
V_>/ And wha will glove my hand ? 
And wha will lace my middle jimp 
Wi' a new-made London band ? 

2 
" Or wha will kaim my yellow hair 

Wi' a new-made silver kaim ? 
O wha will father my young son 
Till Lord Gregory comes name ? ' 
' slack," lower ground. "jimp," neat. " kaim," comb. 



Fair Annie of Lochroyan ny 

3 

1 ' Thy father will shoe thy bonny foot, 

Thy mother will glove thy hand, 
Thy sister will lace thy middle jimp, 

Till Lord Gregory comes to land. 

4 
" Thy brethren will kaim thy yellow hair 

Wi' a new-made silver kaim ; 
And God will be thy bairn's father, 

Till Lord Gregory comes hame." 

5 

" O gin I had a bonny boat, 

And men to sail wi' me, 
It *s I wad gang to my true love, 

Sin 1 he winna come to me ! v 

6 

Her father's gi'en her a bonny boat, 

And sent her to the strand ; 
She 's ta'en her young son in her arms, 

And turn'd her back to the land. 

7 
Her mast was covered wi' beaten gold, 

And it shone across the sea ; 
The sails were o' the grass-green silk, 

And the ropes o' taffetie. 



And now she has been on the sea sailing 

For seven lang days or more, 
She 's landed one night frae her bonny boat 

Near to her true love's door. 



Ii8 The Ballad Book 

9 

The night was dark, and the wind blew cauld, 

And her love was fast asleep, 
And the bairn that was in her twa arms 

Fu' sair began to greet. 



"O open the door, Lord Gregory ! 

O open, and let me in ! 
For the wind blaws through my yellow hair, 

And the rain draps o'er my chin. " 

II 

Lang stood she at Lord Gregory's door, 

And lang she tirled the pin ; 
At length up gat his fause mother, 

Says, " Wha 's that wad be in ? " 

12 

" O it's Annie o' Lochroyan, 

Your love, come o'er the sea, 
But and your young son in her arms ; 

So open the door to me." 

13 

" Awa', awa', ye ill woman ! 

You 're no come here for gude ; 
You 're but a witch, or a vile warlock, 

Or a mermaid o' the flood." 

14 

"I'mno a witch, nor vile warlock, 

Nor mermaiden," said she ; 
" I 'm but your Annie of Lochroyan, — 

O open the door to me ! " 



Fair Annie of Lochroyan 119 

15 

' ' O gin ye be Annie of Lochroyan 

(As I trow ye binna she), 
Tell me some o' the love-tokens 

That passed 'tween me and thee." 

16 
" O dinna ye mind, Lord Gregory, 

When we sat at the dine, 
How we changed the napkins frae our necks ? 

It 's no sae lang sinsyne. 

17 

"And yours w T as good, and good enough, 

But no sae good as mine ; 
For yours was o' the cambrick dear 

But mine o' the silk sae fine. 

18 
"And dinna ye mind, Lord Gregoiy, 

As we twa sat at wine, 
How we changed the rings frae our fingers ? 

And I can show thee thine. 

19 
" And yours was good, and good enough, 

But aye the best was mine ; 
For yours was o' the good red gold, 

But mine o' the diamonds fine. 

20 

" Sae open the door, love Gregory, 

And open it wi' speed ; 
Or your young son that 's in my arms, 

For cauld will soon be dead. " 
"sinsyne," since then. 



The Ballad Book 

21 

"Awa', awa', ye ill woman! 

Gae frae my door for shame ; 
For I hae gotten anither love, 

Sae you may hie you hame." 

22 
" O hae ye gotten anither love, 

For a' the oaths ye sware ? 
Then fare ye weel, fause Gregory, 

For me ye '11 never see mair ! " 

23 

Slowly, slowly, gaed she back, 

As the day began to peep ; 
She set her foot intill her boat, 

And sair, sair, did she weep. 

24 
" Tak' down, tak' down the mast o' gold, 

Set up the mast o' tree ; 
It ill becomes a forsaken lady 

To sail sae gallantlie. " 

25 
Lord Gregory started out o' his sleep, 

And to his mother did say, 
"OI hae dreamt a dream, mother, 

That mak's my heart right wae. 

26 
"I dreamt that Annie of Lochroyan, 

The flower o' a' her kin, 
E'en now was standing at my door, 

But nane wad let her in. 



Fair Annie of Lochroyaii 

27 
"01 hae dreamt a dream, mother, — 

The thought o't gars me greet, — 
That the bonnie Lass of Lochroyan 

Lay cauld dead at my feet," 

28 
' ' O there was a woman stood at the door 

Wi' a bairn intill her arm ; 
But I couldna let her come within, 

For fear she had done you harm." 

29 

O quickly, quickly raise he up, 

And fast ran to the strand ; 
And there he saw her, fair Annie, 

A -sailing frae the land. 

SO 
And "hey, Annie ! " and "how, Annie ! " 

" O Annie, winna ye bide ? " 
But aye the mair that he cried " Annie," 

The rougher grew the tide. 

31 

And "hey, Annie !" and "how, Annie !" 

" O Annie, speak to me ! " 
But aye the louder that he cried "Annie," 

The louder rair'd the sea. 

32 

High blew the blast, the waves ran fast, 

The boat was overthrown, 
And soon he saw his fair Annie 

Come floating in the foam. 



122 The Ballad Book 

33 
He caught her by the yellow hair, 

And drew her up on the sand ; 
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet, 

And his young son came never to land. 

34 

And syne he kissed her on the cheek, 
And kissed her on the chin ; 

And syne he kissed her on the mouth, 
But there was nae breath within. 

35 
" O wae betide my mother ! 

An ill death may she dee ! 
She turned my true love frae my door, 

Wha cam* sae far to me ! 

36 

' ' O wae to my cruel mother ! 

An ill death may she dee ! 
She turned fair Annie frae my door, 

Wha died for love o' me ! n 



A LYKE-WAKE DIRGE 

THIS ae nighte, this ae nighte, 
Everie nighie and alle, 
Fire, and sleete, and candle-lighte, 
And Christe receive thy saule. 



A Lyke-Wake Dirge 12 

When thou from hence away art past, 

Everie nighte and alle, 
To Whinny-muir thou comest at last, 

And Christe receive thy s aide. 

If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon, 

Everie nighte and alle, 
Sit thee down and put them on, 

And Christe receive thy sanle. 

If hosen and shoon thou gavest nane, 

Everie nighte and alle, 
The whinnes shall pricke thee to the bare bane, 

And Christe receive thy sanle. 

From Whinny-muir when thou mayst passe, 

Everie nighte and alle, 
To Brigg o' Dread thou comest at last, 

And Christe receive thy sanle. 

* * * * 

From Brigg o' Dread when thou mayst passe, 

Everie nighte and alle, 
To Purgatory Fire thou comest at last, 

And Christe receive thy sanle. 

If ever thou gavest meate or drinke, 

Everie nighte and alle, 
The fire shall never make thee shrinke 

And Christe receive thy sanle. 

If meate or drinke thou gavest nane, 

Everie nighte and alle, 
The fire will burne thee to the bare bane, 

And Christe receive thy sanle. 



124 The Ballad Book 

This ae nighte, this ae nighte, 
Everie nighte and alle, 

Fire, and sleete, and candle-lighte, 
And Christe receive thy saide. 



XXXII 

ETIN THE FORESTER 



YOUNG Lady Margaret sits in her bower, 
Sewing her silken seam ; 
She took a thought o' Elmond-wood, 
And wish'd she there had been. 

2 
She loot the seam fa' frae her side, 

The needle to her tae, 
And she is aff to Elmond-wood 

As fast as she could gae. 

3 

She hadna pu'd a nut, a nut, 

Nor broken a branch but ane, 
Till by there came the bold Etin, 

Says, "Lady, lat alane. 

4 
" O why pu' ye the nut ? " he says ; 

" O why break ye the tree ? 
For I am forester o' this wood : 
Ye should spier leave at me. " 
"loot," let. "tae," toe. "spier,"ask. 



Etin the Forester 125 

5 
" I '11 ask nae leave o' living man, 

Nor yet will I o' thee ; 
My father's lord o' a' this land, 

This wood belongs to me." 

6 

" O rest thee, Lady Margaret ! 

O stay in the wood wi' me ! 
It 's there I '11 build a secret bower, 

And dearly I '11 lo'e thee. " 

7 
He 's kept her in the deep forest 

For six lang years and ane ; 
Six pretty sons to him she bore, 

And the seventh she 's brought hame. 



And ance it fell upon a day, 
When the hunting was begun, 

The forester he went through the wood, 
Took wi' him his eldest son. 

9 

" O I wad ask ye something, father, 

Gin ye wadna angry be. " 
" Say on, say on, my bonny boy ; 

Ye'se na be quarrelled by me." 

10 

* ' My mither's cheeks are afttimes weet, 

I never see them dry : 
I wonder what is it aileth her 

To mourn sae constantly." 



126 The Ballad Book 

II 

"Your mither was an earl's daughter, 

Sprung frae a high degree ; 
She might hae wed wi' the first in the land, 

Had she na been stolen by me. 

12 

" I lo'e her true, I lo'e her weel ; 

She lo'es me weel and true : 
But still she thinks on former times, 

Which aften gars her rue. " 

13 

"I *11 shoot the deer amang the fern, 

The bird upon the tree, 
And bring them to my mither hame, 

See if she '11 merrier be." 

It fell upon anither day, 

This forester thought lang ; 
And he is to the hunting gane 

The forest leaves amang. 

15 

"WY bow and arrow by his side, 

He took his path alane ; 
And left his seven young children 

To stay wi' their mither at hame. 

16 

" I 'd ask ye something, mither, 

An ye wadna angry be. " 
" Ask on, ask on, my eldest son ; 

Ask ony thing at me." 
"gars," makes. 



Etin the Forester 127 

17 
" Your cheeks are afttimes weet, mither ; 

You 're weeping, as I can see. " 
"Nae wonder, nae wonder, my little son, 

Nae wonder though I should dee ! 

18 
" For I was ance an earl's daughter, 

Of noble birth and fame ; 
And now I 'm the mither o' seven sons 

Wha ne'er gat christendame. " 

19 

He 's ta'en his mither by the hand, 

His six brithers also, 
And they are on through Elmond-wood 

As fast as they could go. 

20 
They wistna weel whar' they were gaen, 

And weary were their feet ; 
They wistna weel wha' they were gaen, 

Till they stopped at her father's gate. 

21 

" I hae nae money in my pocket, 

But jewel-rings I hae three ; 
I '11 gie them to you my little son, 

And ye '11 enter there for me. 

22 
" Ye '11 gie the first to the proud porter, 

And he will lat you in ; 
Ye '11 gie the next to the butler-boy, 

And he will show you ben. 



128 The Ballad Book 

23 
" Ye '11 gie the third to the minstrel 

That 's harping in the ha', 
To play good luck to the bonny boy 

That comes frae the greenwood shaw." 

24 
He ga'e the first ring to the proud porter, 

And he opened and lat him in ; 
He ga'e the next to the butler-boy, 

And he has shown him ben ; 

25 
He ga'e the third to the minstrel 

That was harping in the ha', 
And he played success to the bonny boy 

That cam' frae the greenwood shaw. 

26 
Now when he cam' before the Earl, 

He fell down low on his knee ; 
The Earl he turned round about, 

And the saut tear blint his e'e. 

27 

" Win up, win up, my bonny boy, 

Gang frae my companie ; 
Ye look sae like my dear daughter, 

My heart will burst in three ! " 

28 
* ' If I look like your dear daughter, 

A wonder it is nane ; 
If I look like your dear daughter, 

I am her eldest son." 

" ben," to the inner. 



Etin the Forester 129 

29 
" O tell me soon, ye little wee boy, 

Where may my Margaret be ? " 
" She 's just now standing at your gates, 

And my six brithers her wi'. " 

30 

"Now where are a' my porter-boys 

That I pay meat and fee, 
To open my gates baith braid and wide, 

And let her come in to me ? " 

31 

When she cam' in before the Earl, 

She fell down low on her knee : 
" Win up, win up, my daughter dear ; 

This day ye '11 dine wi' me. " 

32 
" Ae bit I canna eat, father, 

Ae drop I canna drink, 
Till I see Etin, my dear husband ; 

Sae long for him I think ! " 

33 

" Now where are 2! my rangers bold 

That I pay meat and fee, 
To search the forest far and wide, 

And bring Etin tome?" 

34 

Out then speaks the little wee boy : 

" Na, na, this mauna be ; 
Without ye grant a free pardon, 

I hope ye '11 na him see ! " 
9 



130 The Ballad Book 

35 
" O here I grant a free pardon 

Well sealed wi' my own han' ; 
And mak' ye search for Etin, 

As soon as ever ye can. " 

36 

They searched the country braid and wide, 

The forest far and near, 
And they found him into Elmond-wood, 

Tearing his yellow hair. 

37 
" Win up, win up now, Etin, 

Win up and boun' wi' me ; 
For we are come frae the castle, 

And the Earl wad fain you see." 

38 

" O lat him tak' my head," he says, 

" Or hang me on a tree ; 
For since I 've lost my dear lady, 

Life 's no pleasure to me ! " 

39 
" Your head will no be touched, Etin, 

Nor sail you hang on tree ; 
Your lady *s in her father's house, 

And all he wants is thee." 

40 
When he cam' in before the Earl, 

He fell down low on his knee : 
* ' Win up, win up now, Etin ; 

This day ye'se dine wi' me." 

" boun'," go. 



Etin the Forester 131 

41 
As they were set at their dinner, 

The boy he asked a boon : 
"I wish we were in haly kirk, 

To get our christendoun. 

42 
" For we hae lived in gnid greenwood 

These seven years and ane ; 
But a' this time since e'er I mind 

Was never a kirk within/' 

43 

" Your asking's na sae great, my boy, 

But granted it sail be : 
This day to haly kirk sail ye gang, 

And your mither sail gang you wi'." 

44 
When she cam' to the haly kirk, 

She at the door did stan' ; 
She was sae sunken down wi' shame, 

She couldna come farther ben. 

45 
Till out and spak' the haly priest, 

Wi 1 a kindly word spak' he : 
Come ben, come ben, my lily-flower, 

And bring your babes to me." 




132 The Ballad Book. 

XXXIII 

THE LAWLANDS O y HOLLAND 



" npHE love that I hae chosen, 
X I '11 therewith be content ; 
The saut sea sail be frozen 

Before that I repent. 
Repent it sail I never 

Until the day I dee ; 
But the Lawlands o' Holland 
Hae twinned my love and me. 

2 
" My love he built a bonny ship, 

And set her to the main, 
Wi* twenty-four brave mariners 

To sail her out and hame. 
But the weary wind began to rise, 

The sea began to rout, 
And my love and his bonny ship 

Turned withershins about. 

3 
" There sail nae mantle cross my back, 

No kaim gae in my hair, 
Neither sail coal nor candle-light 

Shine in my bower mair ; 
Nor sail I choose anither love 

Until the day I dee, 
Sin' the Lawland's o' Holland 

Ha twinned my love and me. 

' Lawlands," Lowlands. " twinned," separated, 

"withershins," the wrong way. 



The Twa Sisters d* Binitorie 133 

4 
" Noo haud your tongue, my daughter dear, 

Be still, and bide content ; 
There 's ither lads in Galloway ; 

Ye needna sair lament." 
" O there is nane in Galloway, 

There's nane at a' for me. 
I never lo'ed a lad but ane, 

And he' s drowned in the sea." 



xxxiv 
THE TWA SISTERS O' BINNORIE 



THERE were twa sisters sat in a bower ; 
(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
A knight cam' there, a noble wooer, 
By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

2 
He courted the eldest wi' glove and ring, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
But he lo'ed the youngest aboon a' thing, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

3 

The eldest she was vexed sair, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
And sair envied her sister fair, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 



134 The Ballad Book 

4 
Upon a morning fair and clear, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
She cried upon her sister dear, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

5 
" O sister, sister, tak' my hand," 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
"And let's go down to the river-strand, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie." 

6 

She 's ta'en her by the lily hand, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
And down they went to the river-strand, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

7 
The youngest stood upon a stane, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
The eldest cam' and pushed her in, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 



" O sister, sister, reach your hand ! 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
" And ye sail be heir o' half my land " — 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

9 

" O sister, reach me but your glove ! " 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
"And sweet William sail be your love"- 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 



The Twa Sisters <?' Binnorie 135 

10 

Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
Till she cam' to the mouth o' yon mill-dam, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

II 

Out then cam* the miller's son 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
And saw the fair maid soummin' in, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

12 

" O father, father, draw your dam ! " 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
There's either a mermaid or a swan," 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

13 

The miller quickly drew the dam, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
And there he found a drowned woman, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

14 

Round about her middle sma' 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
There went a gouden girdle bra', 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

15 

All amang her yellow hair 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
A string o' pearls was twisted rare, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 
" bra','' brave, rich. 



136 The Ballad Book 

16 

On her fingers lily-white, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
The jewel-rings were shining bright, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

17 

And by there cam' a harper fine, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
Harped to nobles when they dine, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

18 
And when he looked that lady on, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
He sighed and made a heavy moan, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

19 

He 's ta'en three locks o' her yellow hair, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
And wi' them strung his harp sae rare, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

20 
He went into her father's hall, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
And played his harp before them all, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

21 

And sune the harp sang loud and clear 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
" Fareweel, my father and mither dear ! " 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 



Glenlogie 137 

22 
And neist when the harp began to sing, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
'Twas "Fareweel, sweetheart ! " said the string, 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 

23 

And then as plain as plain could be, 

(Binnorie, O Binnorie !) 
"There sits my sister wha drowned me ! " 

By the bonny mill-dams o' Binnorie. 



xxxv 
GLENLOGIE 



THREESCORE o' nobles rade to the king's ha', 
But bonnie Glenlogie 's the flower o' them a' ; 
Wi' his milk-white steed and his bonny black e'e, 
" Glenlogie, dear mither, Glenlogie for me ! " 

2 
" O haud your tongue, dochter, ye '11 get better than he, " 
" O say na sae, mither, for that canna be ; 
Though Drumlie is richer, and greater than he, 
Yet if I maun lo'e him, I '11 certainly dee. 

3 

' ' Where will I get a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon, 
Will gae to Glenlogie, and come again soon ? " 
" O here am I, a bonnie boy, to win hose and shoon, 
Will gae to Glenlogie, and come again soon. 



138 The Ballad Book 

4 

When he gaed to Glenlogie, 't was * i Wash and go 

dine"; 
'Twas " Wash ye, my pretty boy, wash and go dine." 
"0 'twas ne'er my father's fashion, and it ne'er shall 

be mine, 
To gar a lady's errand wait till I dine. 

5 
" But there is, Glenlogie, a letter for thee." 
The first line he read, a low smile ga'e he ; 
The next line he read, the tear blindit his e'e ; 
But the last line he read, he gart the table flee. 

6 

"Gar saddle the black horse, gar saddle the brown ; 
Gar saddle the swiftest steed e'er rade frae town "; 
But lang ere the horse was brought round to the green, 
O bonnie Glenlogie was twa mile his lane. 

7 
When he cam' to Glenfeldy's door, sma' mirth was 

there ; 
Bonnie Jean's mother was tearing her hair ; 
" Ye 're welcome, Glenlogie, ye 're welcome," said she, 
" Ye 're welcome, Glenlogie, your Jeanie to see." 



Pale and wan was she, when Glenlogie gaed ben, 
But red rosy grew she whene'er he sat down ; 
She turned awa' her head, but the smile was in her e'e : 
" O binna feared, mither, I '11 maybe no dee." 
"his lane," alone. 



The Children in the Wood 139 

XXXVI 

THE CHILDREN IN THE WOOD 



NOW ponder well, you parents dear, 
These words which I shall write ; 
A doleful story you shall hear, 

In time brought forth to light. 
A gentleman of good account 

In Norfolk dwelt of late, 
Who did in honor far surmount 
Most men of his estate. 

2 

Sore sick he was and like to die, 

No help his life could save ; 
His wife by him as sick did lie, 

And both possest one grave. 
No love between these two was lost, 

Each was to other kind ; 
In love they lived, in love they died, 

And left two babes behind : 

3 

The one a fine and pretty boy 

Not passing three years old, 
The other a girl more young than he, 

And framed in beauty's mould. 
The father left his little son, 

As plainly did appear, 
When he to perfect age should come, 

Three hundred pounds a year ; 



140 The Ballad Book 

4 

And to his little daughter Jane 

Five hundred pounds in gold, 
To be paid down on marriage-day, 

Which might not be controlled. 
But if the children chance to die 

Ere they to age should come, 
Their uncle should possess their wealth ; 

For so the will did run. ' 

5 
"Now, brother/' said the dying man, 

" Look to my children dear ; 
Be good unto my boy and girl, 

No friends else have they here : 
To God and you I recommend 

My children dear this day ; 
But little while be sure we have 

Within this world to stay. 

6 
"You must be father and mother both, 

And uncle, all in one ; 
God knows what will become of them 

When I am dead and gone." 
With that bespake their mother dear : 

" O brother kind," quoth she, 
"You are the man must bring our babes 

To wealth or misery. 

7 
"And if you keep them carefully, 

Then God will you reward ; 
But if you otherwise should deal, 

God will your deeds regard. " 



The Children in the Wood 141 

With lips as cold as any stone, 

They kissed their children small : 
" God bless you both, my children dear ! " 

With that the tears did fall. 



These speeches then their brother spake 

To this sick couple there : 
" The keeping of your little ones, 

Sweet sister, do not fear ; 
God never prosper me nor mine, 

Nor aught else that I have, 
If I do wrong your children dear 

When you are laid in grave ! " 

9 

The parents being dead and gone, 

The children home he takes, 
And brings them straight unto his house, 

Where much of them he makes. 
He had not kept these pretty babes 

A twelvemonth and a day, 
But, for their wealth, he did devise 

To make them both away. 

10 

He bargained with two ruffians strong, 

Which were of furious mood, 
That they should take these children young, 

And slay them in a wood. 
He told his wife an artful tale : 

He would the children send 
To be brought up in London town 

With one that was his friend. 



142 The Ballad Book 

II 

Away then went those pretty babes, 

Rejoicing at that tide, 
Rejoicing with a merry mind 

They should on cock-horse ride. 
They prate and prattle pleasantly, 

As they ride on the way, 
To those that should their butchers be 

And work their lives' decay : 

12 

So that the pretty speech they had 

Made Murder's heart relent ; 
And they that undertook the deed 

Full sore did now repent. 
Yet one of them, more hard of heart, 

Did vow to do his charge, 
Because the wretch that hired him 

Had paid him very large. 

13 

The other won't agree thereto, 

So there they fall to strife ; 
With one another they did fight 

About the children's life : 
And he that was of mildest mood 

Did felay the other there, 
Within an unfrequented wood ; 

The babes did quake for fear ! 

H 

He took the children by the hand, 
Tears standing in their eye, 

And bade them straightway follow him, 
And look they did not cry ; 



The Children in the Wood 143 

And two long miles he led them on, 

While they for food complain : 
" Stay here," quoth he ; "I '11 bring you bread 

When I come back again." 

15 

These pretty babes, with hand in hand, 

Went wandering up and down ; 
But never more could see the man 

Approaching from the town. 
Their pretty lips with blackberries 

Were all besmeared and dyed ; 
And when they saw the darksome night, 

They sat them down and cried. 

16 

Thus wandered these poor innocents, 

Till death did end their grief ; 
In one another's arms they died, 

As wanting due relief : 
No burial this pretty pair 

From any man receives, 
Till Robin Redbreast piously 

Did cover them with leaves. 

17 

And now the heavy wrath of God 

Upon their uncle fell ; 
Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his house, 

His conscience felt an hell : 
His barns were fired, his goods consumed, 

His lands were barren made, 
His cattle died within the field, 

And nothing with him stayed. 



144 The Ballad Book 

18 

And in a voyage to Portugal 

Two of his sons did die ; 
And, to conclude, himself was brought 

To want and misery : 
He pawned and mortgaged all his land 

Ere seven years came about. 
And now at last this wicked act 

Did by this means come out. 

19 
The fellow that did take in hand 

These children for to kill, 
Was for a robbery judged to die, 

Such was God's blessed will : 
Who did confess the very truth, 

As here hath been displayed : 
The uncle having died in jail, 

Where he for debt was laid. 

20 

You that executors be made, 

And overseers eke, 
Of children that be fatherless, 

And infants mild and meek, 
Take you example by this thing, 

And yield to each his right, 
Lest God with suchlike misery 

Your wicked minds requite. 

"eke," also. 




Young Beicha?i 145 



XXXVII 

YOUNG BEICHAN 



IN London was Lord Beichan born, 
He longed strange countries for to see ; 
But he was ta'en by a savage Moor, 
Who handled him right cruellie. 

2 
For he yiewed the fashions of that land ; 

Their way of worship viewed he ; 
But to Mahound, or Termagant, 

Would Beichan never bend a knee. 

3 

So on every shoulder they Ve putten a rope, 
To every rope they 've putten a tree ; 

And they have made him trail the wine 
And spices on his fair bodie. 

4 
They Ve casten him in a dungeon deep, 

Where he could neither hear nor see ; 
And fed him on naught but bread and water 

Till he for hunger 's like to dee. 

5 
This Moor he had but ae daughter, 
Her name was called Susie Pye ; 
And every day as she took the air, 
Near Beichan's prison she passed by. 
10 



146 The Ballad Book 



Now so it fell upon a day, 

About the middle time of Spring, 

As she was passing by that way, 

She heard young Beichan sadly sing : 

7 
" My hounds they all go masterless, 

My hawks they fly from tree to tree, 
My younger brother will heir my land ; 

Fair England again I '11 never see ! " 

8 

All the night long no rest she got, 

Young Beichan's sang for thinking on ; 

She 's stown the keys from her father's head, 
And to the prison Strang is gone. 

9 

And she has opened the prison-doors : 

I wot she opened two or three 
Ere she could come young Beichan at, 

He was locked up so curiouslie. 

10 
But when she cam' young Beichan till, 

Sore wondered he that May to see ; 
He took her for some fair captive : 

" Fair lady, I pray, of what countrie ? " 

11 

" O have ye ony lands," she said, 
"Or castles in your own countrie ? 

Or what could ye give to a lady fair, 
From prison strong would set ye free ? " 
" stown." stolen. 



Young Beichan 147 

12 

"Near London town I have a hall, 

And other castles two or three ; 
I ? 11 give them all to the lady fair 

That out of prison will set me free." 

13 
"Give me the truth of your right hand, 

The truth of that now give to me, 
For seven years ye '11 no lady wed, 

Unless that ye be wed with me." 

H 

" I give thee the truth of my right hand, 

The truth of that I freely gie, 
That for seven years I '11 stay unwed, 

For the kindness thou dost show to me." 

15 

She 's gi'en him to eat the good spice-cake, 
She 's gi'en him to drink the blood-red wine ; 

She 's bidden him sometimes think on her 
That 's kindly freed him out o' pine. 

16 
And she has broken her finger-rin^ ; 

To Beichan half of it gave she : 
"Keep it to mind you in foreign land 

Of the lady's love that set you free. 

17 
"And set your foot on good ship-board, 

And haste ye back to your ain countrie ; 
And before that seven years have an end, 

Come back again, love, and many me." 



148 The Ballad Book 

18 
But long ere seven years had an end, 

She longed full sore her love to see ; 
So she 's set her foot on good ship-board, 

And turned her back on her own countrie. 

19 

She sailed east, she sailed west, 

Till to fair England's shore she came, 

Where a bonny shepherd she espied, 
Feeding his sheep upon the plain. " 

20 
* ' What news, what news, thou bonny shepherd ? 

What news hast thou to tell to me ? " 
" Such news I hear, ladie," he says, 

"The like was never in this countrie. 

21 

" There is a wedding in yonder hall, 

And ever the bells ring merrilie ; 
It is Lord Beichan's wedding-day 

Wi' a lady fair o' high degree." 

22 
She 's putten her hand into her pocket, 

Gi'en him the gold and white monie : 
" Hey, take ye that, my bonny boy, 

All for the news thou tellest to me. " 

23 
When she came to young Beichan's gate, 

She tirled softly at the pin ; 
So ready was the proud porter 

To open and let this lady in ; 



Young Beichan 149 

24 
" Is this young Beichan's house ? " she said, 

" Or is that noble lord within ? " 
" Yea, he sits in hall among them all, 

And this is the day o' his weddin'." 

25 

" O has he wed anither love ? 

O has he clean forgotten me ? " 
And sighing said that fair ladie, 

1 ' I wish I were in my own countrie ! " 

26 
And she has ta'en her gay gold ring, 

That with her love she brake so free ; 
Says, " Gie him that, ye proud porter, 

And bid the bridegroom speak with me." 

27 
The porter came his lord before, 

And kneeled low down on his knee : 
" What aileth thee, my proud porter, 

And wherefore is thy courtesie ? " 

28 
" I have been porter at your gates, 

It '3 now for thirty years and three ; 
But there stands a lady now thereat, 

And so fair a lady I never did see/' 

29 
Then out and spak/ the bride's mother ; 

An angry woman, I wot, was she : 
" Ye might have excepted our bonny bride, 

And twa or three of our companie. " 



150 The Ballad Book 

30 

" My dame, your daughter's fair enough, 
And aye the fairer mote she be, 

But the fairest time that ever she was, 
She '11 no compare wi' this ladie. 

3* 

" On eveiy finger she has a ring, 
On her mid-finger she has three ; 

And as mickle gold aboon her head 
As would buy an earldom unto me. 

32 
" And this golden ring that 's broken in twa, 

This half o' a golden ring sends she : 
' Ye '11 carry that to Lord Beichan, ' she says, 

' And bid him come and speak wi' me. 5 " 

33 
Then up and started Lord Beichan ; 

I wot he made the table flee : 
" I would gie a' my yearly rent 

'T were Susie Pye come over the sea ! " 

34 
And quickly hied he down the stair, 

Of fifteen steps he made but three ; 
He 's ta'en his bonny love in his arms, 

And kissed, and kissed her tenderlie. 

35 
"O have ye ta'en anither bride? 

And have ye clean forgotten me ? 
And have ye clean forgotten her 
That gave you life and libertie ? " 
" mote," may. 



Young Beichan 151 

36 

She looked over her left shoulder, 

To hide the tears stood in her e'e : 
" Now fare thee well, young Beichan," she says; 

" I '11 try to think no more on thee." 

37 
" O never, never, Susie Pye, 

O never, never can it be, 
That I shall wed in all the world 

Another woman but only thee ! " 

38 

Then up and spak' the bride's mother ; 

She never was heard to speak so free : 
" Ye cannot forsake my ae daughter, 

Though Susie Pye has crossed the sea ! " 

39 
"Take home, take home, your daughter, madam, 

For she is never the worse for me ; 
I '11 send her back in a coach and four, 

And a double sum shall her dowry be. " 

40 
He 's ta'en Susie Pye by the milk white hand, 

And led her through his halls so hie ; 
He 's kissed her on the red-rose lips : 

"Ye 're dearly welcome, jewel, to me." 

41 

He 's ta'en her by the milkwhite hand, 

And led her to yon fountain -stane ; 
He 's changed her name from Susie Pye, 

And called her his bonny wife, Lady Jane. 



152 The Ballad Book 

XXXVIII 

CLERK SAUNDERS 



CLERK SAUNDERS and may Margaret 
Walked ower yon garden green ; 
And deep and heavy was the love 
That fell thir twa between. 

2 
"A bed, a bed," Clerk Saunders said, 

1 ' A bed for you and me ! " 
"Fye na, fye na," said may Margaret, 

" Till anes we married be ! " 



"Then I '11 take the sword frae my scabbard 

And slowly lift the pin ; 
And you may swear, and save your aith, 

Ye ne'er let Clerk Saunders in. 

4 
" Take you a napkin in your hand, 

Tie up your bonnie een, 
And you may swear, and save your aith, 

Ye saw me na since yestreen." 

5 
It was about the midnight hour, 

When they asleep were laid, 
When in and came her seven brothers, 

Wf torches burning red : 
called " Clerk," as being a learned young nobleman. 



Clerk Saunders 153 

6 
When in and came her seven brothers, 

Wi' torches burning bright : 
They said, " We hae but one sister, 

And behold her lying with a knight ! " 

7 
Then out and spake the first o' them, 

" We will awa' and let them be." 
And out and spake the second o' them, 

" His father has nae mair but he." 



And out and spake the third o' them, 

" I wot that they are lovers dear." 
And out and spake the fourth o' them, 

' i They hae been in love this mony a year. " 

9 
Then out and spake the fifth o* them, 

" It were great sin true love to twain," 
And out and spake the sixth o' them, 

" It were shame to slay a sleeping man." 

10 

Then up and gat the seventh o' them, 

And never a word spake he ; 
But he has striped his bright brown brand 

Out through Clerk Saunders' fair bodye. 

11 

Clerk Saunders he started, and Margaret she turned 

Into his arms as asleep she lay ; 
And sad and silent was the night 

That was atween thir twae. 
" striped," thrust. 



154 The Ballad Book 

12 

And they lay still and sleepit sound 

Until the day began to daw ; 
And kindly she to him did say, 

"It is time, true love, you were awa'." 

13 

But he lay still, and sleepit sound, 

Albeit the sun began to sheen ; 
She looked atween her and the wa', 

And dull and drowsie were his een. 

H 
Then in and came her father dear ; 

Said, " Let a' your mourning be ; 
I '11 carry the dead corpse to the clay, 

And I '11 come back and comfort thee." 

15 

"Comfort weel your seven sons, 

For comforted I will never be : 
I trow 't was neither knave nor loon 

Was in the bower last night wi' me. " 

16 

The clinking bell gaed through the town, 
And carried the dead corpse to the clay. 

Young Saunders stood at may Margaret's window, 
I wot, an hour before the day. 

17 

" Are ye sleeping, Margaret ? " he says, 

" Or are ye waking presentlie ? 
Give me my faith and troth again, 

True love, as I gied them to thee." 



Clerk Saunders 155 

18 

" Your faith and troth ye sail never get, 

Nor our true love sail never twin, 
Until ye come within my bower, 

And kiss me cheek and chin." 

19 

* ' My mouth it is full cold, Margaret ; 

It has the smell, now, of the ground ; 
And if I kiss thy comely mouth, 

Thy days will soon be at an end. 

20 
" O, cocks are crowing a merry midnight; 

I wot the wild fowls are boding day. 
Give me my faith and troth again, 

And let me fare me on my way." 

21 

" Thy faith and troth thou sail na get, 

And our true love sail never twin, 
Until ye tell what comes o' women, 

Wot ye, who die in strong trai veiling ? " 

22 
" Their beds are made in the heavens high, 

Down at the foot of our good Lord's knee, 
Weel set about wi 1 gillyflowers ; 

I wot, sweet company for to see. 

23 

" O, cocks are crowing a merry midnight ; 

I wot the wild fowls are boding day ; 
The psalms of heaven will soon be sung, 

And I, ere now, will be missed away." 
" twin," break in two. 



156 The Ballad Book 

24 
Then she has taken a crissom wand, 

And she has stroken her troth thereon ; 
She has given it him out at the shot-window, 

Wi' mony a sad sigh and heavy groan. 

25 
" I thank ye, Marg'ret ; I thank ye, Marg'ret ; 

Ever I thank ye heartilie ; 
But gin I were living, as I am dead, 

I 'd keep my faith and troth with thee. " 

26 
It 's hosen and shoon, and gown alone, 

She climbed the wall, and followed him, 
Until she came to the green forest, 

And there she lost the sight o' him. 

27 
" Is there ony room at your head, Saunders? 

Is there ony room at your feet ? 
Is there ony room at your side, Saunders, 

Where fain, fain, I wad sleep ? " 

28 
"There's nae room at my head, Marg'ret, 

There 's nae room at my feet ; 
My bed it is fu' lowly now, 

Amang the hungry worms I sleep. 

29 

" Cauld mould is my covering now, 

But and my winding-sheet ; 
The dew it falls nae sooner down 

Than my resting-place is week" 
* crissom " (?) 



The Bailiff's Daughter of Islingto7i 157 

SO 
Then up and crew the red, red cock, 

And up and crew the gray : 
" 'Tis time, 'tis time, my dear Marg'ret, 

That you were going away. 

31 

" And fair Marg'ret, and rare Marg'ret, 

And Marg'ret, o' veritie, 
Gin e'er ye love another man, 

Ne'er love him as ye did me." 



THE BAILIFF'S DAUGHTER OF 
ISLINGTON. 



THERE was a youth, and a well-beloved youth, 
And he was a squire's son ; 
He loved a bailiff's daughter dear, 
That lived in Islington. 

2 
Yet she, being coy, would not believe 

That he did love her so, 
Nor would she any countenance 

Unto this young man show. 

3 

But when his friends did understand 

His fond and foolish mind, 
They sent him up to fair London, 
An apprentice him to bind. 
Perhaps " Islington," in Norfolk. " bailiff, " a magistrate. 



158 The Ballad Book 

4 
And now he 's gone 't is seven long years, 

And never his love could see : 
' ' O many a tear have I shed for her sake, 

When she little thought of me ! " 

5 
One day the maids of Islington 

Went forth to sport and play ; 
And then the bailiff's daughter dear, 

She secretly stole away. 



She pulled off her pretty gown of pink, 

And put on ragged attire, 
And to fair London she would go, 

For her true love to enquire. 

7 
And as she went along the road, 

The weather being hot and dry, 
She sat her down on a grassy bank, 

And her true love came riding by. 



She started up, with a color so red, 
Catching hold of his bridle-rein : 

"One penny, one penny, kind sir," she said, 
" Would ease me of much pain." 

9 

" Before I give you one penny, sweetheart, 
Pray tell me where you were born." 

"At Islington, kind sir," said she, 
" Where I have had many a scorn." 



The Bailiff \r Daughter of Islington 159 

10 

"I prithee, sweetheart, then tell to me, 

O tell me whether you know 
The bailiff's daughter of Islington ? " 

" She is dead, sir, long ago." 



" If she be dead, then take my horse, 

My saddle and bridle also ; 
For I '11 sail away for some far country 

Where no man shall me know." 

12 

" O stay, good youth ! O look, dear love ! 

She standeth by thy side ; 
She 's here alive, she is not dead, 

She 's ready to be thy bride." 

13 

" O farewell grief, and welcome joy, 

Ten thousand times, therefore ! 
For now I have found mine own true love, 

Whom I thought I should never see more." 




160 The Ballad Book 



A LYTELL GESTE OF ROBYN HODE 

THE FIRSTE FYTTE 
{How Robin lent a poor Knight four hundred 'pounds^ 

I 

LITHE and lysten, gentylmen, 
That be of frebore blode ; 
I shall you tell of a good yeman, 
His name was Robyn Hode. 

2 

Robyn was a proude ontlawe, 
Whyles he walked on grounde, 

So curteyse an outlawe as he was one 
Was never none yfounde. 

/ 3 
Robyn stode in Barnysdale, 

And lened hym to a tree, 
And by hym stode Lytell Johan, 

A good yeman was he ; 

4 
And also dyd good Scathelock, 

And Much the miller's sone ; 
There was no ynche of his body, 

But it was worthe a grome. 

" Geste," (gero), act, thing done ; also, account of the like, 
history, tale. "lithe," attend. "frebore," freeborn. 

" yeman," yeoman. " Barnysdale," in Yorkshire, 

"grome," (?) 



A Lytell Gesie of Robyn Hode 161 

5 

Then bespake him Lytell Johan 

All unto Robyn Hode, 
" Mayster, yf ye wolde dyne betyme, 

It wolde do you moch good." 

6 

Then bespake good Robyn, 

" To dyne I have no lust, 
Tyll I have some bolde baron, 

Or some unketh guest, 

7 
" [Or els some byshop or abbot] 

That may paye for the best ; 
Or some knyght or some squyere 

That dwelleth here by west. " 

8 
A good maner than had Robyn, 

In londe where that he were : 
Every daye or he woulde dyne 

Thre messes wolde he here. 

9 

Robyn loved Our Dere Lady ; 

For doute of dedely synne 
Wolde he never do company harme 

That ony woman was ynne. 

io 

" Mayster," than sayd Lytell Johan, 
" And we our borde shall sprede, 

Tell us whither we shall gone, 
And what lyfe we shall lede ; 

'lust," desire. " unketh," uncouth, strange. "messes," 

[lasses. " Our Dere Lady," the Virgin. " doute, " dread. 

"ynne," in. 



1 62 The Ballad Book 

ii 

" Where we shall take, where we shall leve, 

Where we shalL abide behynde," 
Where we shall robbe, where we shall reve, 

Where we shall bete and bynde." 

12 

* ' Thereof no fors, " sayd Robyn, 

' ' We shall do well enow ; 
But loke ye do no housbonde harme 

That tylleth with his plough ; 

13 

"No more ye shall no good yeman, 
That walketh by grene wode shawe, 

Ne no knyght, ne no squyer, 
That wolde be a good felawe. 

H 
"These bysshoppes, and thyse archebysshoppes, 

Ye shall them bete and bynde ; 
The hye sheryfe of Notynghame, 

Hym holde in your mynde." 

15 

"This worde shall be holde," sayd Lytyll Johan, 

" And this lesson shall we lere ; 
It is ferre dayes, God sende us a guest, 

There we were at our dynere." 

16 
" Take thy good bowe in thy hande," said Robyn, 

" Let Moche wende with the, 
And so shall Wyllyam Scathelocke, 

And no man abyde with me : 

"reve," take by force. " Thereof no fors," no matter, never 

mind. "housbonde," husbandman, 

"ferre dayes," far in the day. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 163 

17 

" And walke up to the Sayles, 
And so to Watlynge-strete, 
And wayte after some unketh guest, 
Up-chaunce ye mowe them mete. 

18 
"Be he erle or ony baron, 

Abbot or ony knyght, 
Brynge hym to lodge to me, 

Hys dyner shall be dyght. " 

19 
They wente unto the Sayles, 

These yemen all thre, 
They loked est, they loked west, 

They myght no man see. 

20 
But as they loked in Barnysdale, 

By a derne strete 
Then. came there a knyght rydynge, 

Full sone they gan hym mete. 

21 

All dreri then was his semblaunte, 

And lytell was hys pryde, 
Hys one fote in the sterope stode, 

That other waved besyde. 

" Watlynge-strete," one of the Roman roads : "This seems to 
have been, and in many parts is still, the name used by the vul- 
gar for Erming-street. The course of the real "Watling-street 
was from Dover to Chester." — Ritson. 

" unketh guest," stranger. " dyght," dressed. 

" derne strete," secret or private way. 



1 64 The Ballad Book 

22 

Hys hode hangynge over hys even two, 

He rode in symple aray ; 
A soryer man than he was one 

Rode never in somers-day. 

23 
Lytell J oh an was curteyse, 

And set hym on his kne : 
" Welcome be ye, gentyll knyght, 

Welcome are you to me ; 

24 
"Welcome be thou to grene wood, 

Hende knyght and fre ; 
My mayster hath abyden you fastynge, 

Syr, all these oures thre." 

25 
* ' Who is your mayster ? " sayd the knyght, 

Johan sayde, " Robyn Hode." 
" He is a good yeman," sayd the knyght, 

" Of hym I have herde moch good. 

26 
"I graunte," he sayd, " with you to wende, 

My brethren all in-fere ; 
My purpose was to have deyned to-day 

At Blythe or Dankastere." 

Forthe than went this gentyll knyght, 

With a carefull chere, 
The teres out of his eyen ran, 

And fell downe by his lere. 

" hode," hood. " soryer," shabbier (?) " hende," gentle. 

" in-fere," together. " Dankastere," Doncaster. " lere," cheek. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 165 

28 
They brought hym unto the lodge dore ; 

When Robyn gan hym se, 
Full curteysly dyd of his hode, 

And set hym on his kne. 

29 
"Welcome, syr knyght," then said Robyn, 

" Welcome thou art to me ; 
I haue abyde you fastynge, syr, 

All these houres thre." 

30 
Then answered the gentyll knyght, 

With wordes fayre and fre, 
" God the save, good Robyn, 

And all thy fayre meyne ! " 

31 
They washed togyder and wyped bothe, 

And set tyll theyr dynere ; 
Brede and wyne they had ynough, 

And nombles of the dere ; 

32 
Swannes and fesauntes they had full good, 

And foules of the rivere ; 
There fayled never so lytell a byrde, 

That ever was bred on brere. 

33 
"Do gladly, syr knyght," sayd Robyn. 

"Gramercy, syr," sayd he, 
" Suche a dyner had I not 

Of all these wekes thre : 

"meyne," company. "nombles," umbles, eatable parts of the 
entrails. " brere," briar. 

" gramercy," grand merci, much thanks. 



1 66 The Ballad Book 

34 
" If I come agayne, Robyn, 

Here by this countre, 

As good a dyner I shall thee make, 

As thou hast made to me." 

35 
"Gramercy, knyght," sayd Robyn, 

" My dyner whan I have, 
I was never so gredy [I swear to thee], 

My dyner for to crave. 

36 

"But pay or ye wende," sayd Robyn. 

" Me thynketh it is good ryght ; 
It was never the maner, by my troth, 

A yeman to pay for a knyght. " 

37 
" I have nought in my cofers," sayd the knyght, 

"That I may profer for shame. " 
" Lytell Johan, go loke," sayd Robyn, 

" Ne let not for no blame. 

38 
"Tell me trouth," sayd Robyn, 

" So God have parte of thee." 
" I have no more but ten shillings," sayd the knyght, 

" So God have parte of me." 

39 
" Yf thou have no more," sayd Robyn, 

" I wyll not one peny ; 
And yf thou have nede of ony more, 

More shall I len thee. 

"or ye wende," ere you go. 
" Ne let not for no blame," stop not for any chiding. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 167 

40 
1 ' Go now forth, Lytell Johan, 

The trouthe tell thou me : 
Yf there be no more but ten shillings, 

Not one peny that I se. " 

4i 
Lytell Johan spred downe his mantell 

Full fayre upon the grounde, 
And there he founde in the knyghtes cofer 

But even halfe a pounde. 

42 
Lytell Johan let it lye full styll, 

And went to his mayster full lowe. 
" What tydynge, Johan?" sayd Robyn. 

"Syr, the knyght is trewe inough." 

43 
" Fyll of the best wyne," sayd Robyn, 

" The knyght shall begynne ; 
Moch wonder thynketh me 

Thy clothynge is so thynne. 

44 
"Tell me one worde," sayd Robyn, 

"And counsell shall it be ; 
I trowe thou were made a knyght of forse, 

Or elles of yemanry ; 

45 
" Or elles thou hast ben a sory housband, 

And leved in stroke and stryfe ; 
An okerer, or elles a lechoure," sayd Robyn, 

" With wronge hast thou lede thy lyfe." 

"counsell," in confidence. "of forse," (?). "trowe," hold for 
truth, am sure, "sory housband," ill-manager, "okerer,'' usurer. 



1 68 The Ballad Book 

46 

" I am none of them," sayd the knyght, % 

" By [him] that made me : 
An hondreth wynter here before, 

Myne aunsetters knyghtes have be. 

47 
" But ofte it hath befal, Robyn, 

A man hath be dysgrate ; 
But [he] that syteth in heven above 

May amend his state. 

48 

" Within two or thre yere, Robyn," he sayd, 

" My neyghbores well it kende, 
Foure hondreth pounde of good money 

Full wel than myght I spend e. 

49 
"Now have I no good," sayd the knyght, 

" But my chyldren and my wyfe ; 
God hath shapen such an ende, 

Tyll it may amende my lyfe." 

50 
"In what maner," sayd Robyn ; 

"Hast thou lore thy riches ? " 
" For my grete foly," he sayd, 

" And for my kindenesse. 

51 
" I had a sone, for soth, Robyn, 

That sholde have ben my eyre, 
When he was twenty wynter olde, 

In felde wolde juste full feyre ; 

"aunsetters,'' ancestors. "dysgrate," disgraced. "than," 

then. "lore," lost. "for soth," forsooth, truly. "eyre," 
heir. " In felde wolde juste full feyre," in field would tilt full fair. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 169 

52 
'* He slewe a knyght of Lancastshyre, 

And a squyre bold ; 
For to save hym in his ryght 

My goodes beth sette and solde ; * 

53 
" My londes beth set to wedde, Robyn, 

Untyll a certayne daye, 
To a ryche abbot here besyde, 

Of Saynt Mary abbay." 

54 
' ' What is the somme ? " sayd Robyn, 

"Trouthe than tell thou me." 
" Syr," he sayd, " foure hondred pounde, 

The abbot tolde it to me." 

55 
" Now, and thou lese thy londe," sayd Robyn, 

" What shall fall of thee ? " 
" Hastely I wyll me buske," sayd the knyght, 

1 ' Over the sake see, 

56 

"And se where Cryst was quycke and deed, 

On the mounte of Calvare. 
Fare well, frende, and have good daye, 

It may noo better be — ' 

57 
Teeres fell out of his eyen two, 

He wolde haue gone his wave, — 
" Farewell, frendes, and have good day ; 

I ne have more to say." 

"to wedde," in pawn. "buske," betake. 

" quycke and deed," alive and dead. 

* His son had to pay a heavy fine, or else go to prison. 



170 The Ballad Book. 

58 

" Where be thy frendes ?" said Robyn. 

4 ' Syr, never one wyll me know ; 
Whyle I was ryche inow at home, 

Grete bost then wolde they blowe, 

59 
" And now they renne awaye fro me, 

As bestes on a rawe ; 
They take no more heed of me 

Then they me never sawe." 

60 

For ruthe then wepte Lytell Johan, 

Scathelocke and Much in fere. 
' ' Fyll of the best wyne, " sayd Robyn, 

" For here is a symple chere. 

61 
"Hast thou ony frendes," sayd Robyn, 

' ' Thy borowes that wyll be ? " 
"[None other] but Our Dere Lady : 

She [never hath] fayled me." 

62 
"Now by my hand," said Robyn, 

4 ' To serche all Englond thorowe, 
Yet founde I never to my pay, 

A moch better borowe. 

63 

" Come now forthe, Lytell Johan, 

And goo to my tresoure, 
And brynge me foure hondred pounde, 

And loke that it well tolde be." 

"inow," enough. "bost," boast. "As bestes on a rawe," like 
beasts in a row. "ruthe," pity. " in fere," together, "here is 
a symple chere," here is but poor cheer. "borowes," sureties. 



A Lytell Gcste of Robyn Hode I 

64 

Forthe then wente Lytell Johan, 

And Scathelocke went before, 
He tolde out foure houndred pounde, 

By two and twenty score. 

65 
" Is this well tolde ? " sayd lytell Much. 

Johan sayd, " What greveth thee ? 
It is alines to helpe a gentyll knyght 

That is fall in poverte. " 

66 
"Mayster," than sayd Lytell Johan, 

" His clothynge is full thynne ; 
Ye must gyve the knyght a lyveray, 

To lappe his body ther in. 

67 

" For ye have scarlet and grene, mayster, 

And many a ryche aray ; 
There is no marchaunt in mery Englonde 

So ryche, I dare well save,'' 

68 
" Take hym thre yerdes of every coloure, 

And loke that well mete it be." 
Lytell Johan toke none other mesure 

But his bowe tre, 

69 

And of even- handfull that he met 

He lept over fotes thre. 
" What devilkyns draper,' 7 sayd litell Much, 

"Thynkyst thou to be?'' 

''lyveray," dress. "mete," measured, 

"his bowe tre," the wood of his bow ''fotes,' : feet. 



172 The Ballad Book 

70 
Scathelocke stoode full styll and lough, 

[And swore it was but right] ; 
Johan may give hym the better mesure, 

It costeth him but lyght 

71 

"Mayster," sayd Lytell Johan, 

All unto Robyn Hode, 
" Ye must gyve that knight an hors, 

To lede home al this good." 

72 
" Take hym a gray courser/' sayd Robyn, 

" And a sadell newe ; 
He is our ladyes messengere, 

[I hope] that he be true. " 

73 
"And a good palfraye," sayd lytell Moch, 

" To mayntayne hym in his ryght." 
" And a payre of botes," sayd Scathelocke, 

" For he is a gentyll knyght." 

74 
"What shalt thou gyve hym, Lytel Johan?" sayd 
Robyn. 
* * Syr, a payre of gylte spurres clene, 
To pray for all this company, — 
God brynge hym out of tene ! " 

75 
" Whan shall my daye be," sayd the knyght, 

" Syr, and your wyll be ? " 
"This daye twelve moneth," sayd Robyn, 

" Under this grene wode tre. 

"tene," affliction. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 173 

76 

"It were grete shame," sayd Robyn, 

* ' A knyght alone to ryde, 
Without squyer, yeman, or page, 

To walke by hys syde. 

77 
i ' I shall thee lene Lytell Johan my man, 

For he shall be thy knave ; 
In a yeman's steed he may thee stonde, 

Yf thou grete nede have. " 



THE SECONDS FYTTE 

[The Knight releases his pawned lands ; and afterwards, 
going- to refiay Robin Hood, succors a yeoman for Robin's 
sake.] 



NOWE is the knyght went on his way ; 
This game he thought full good ; 
Whan he loked on Barnysdale, 
He blyssed Robyn Hode ; 

2 
And whan he thought on Barnysdale, 

On Scathelock, Much, and Johan, 
He blyssed them for the best company 

That ever he in come. 

3 
Then spake that gentyll knyght, 

To Lytell Johan gan he saye, 
4 ' To morowe I must to Yorke toune, 

To Saynt Mary Abbay ; 

"lene," lend. " knave," servant, 

"in a yeman's steed," in yeoman's stead. 



174 The Ballad Book 

4 
" And to the abbot of that place 

Foure hondred pounde I must pay : 
And but I be there upon this nyght 

My londe is lost for ay." 

5 
The abbot sayd to his covent, 

There he stode on grounde, 
' 'This day twelfe moneth came there a knyght 

And borowed foure hondred pounde. 

6 

" [He borowed foure hondred pounde] 

Upon all his londe fre, 
But he come this ylke day 

Disheryted shall he be." 

7 
" It is full erely," sayd the pryoure,* 

" The day is not yet ferre gone ; 
I had lever to pay an hondred pounde, 

And lay it downe a none. 



" The knyght is ferre beyonde the see, 

In Englonde is his ryght, 
And suffreth honger and colde 

And many a sory nyght : 

"covent," convent, "a none," anon, at once. " lever," rather. 

* The prior, in an abbey, was the officer immediately under 
the abbot ; in priories and conventual cathedrals he was the supe- 
rior. — Ritson. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyri Hode 175 

9 

" It were grete pyte," sayd the pryoure, 

"So to have his londe ; 
And ye be so lyght of your conseyence, 

Ye do to him moch wronge." 

10 
" Thou arte ever in my berde," sayd the abbot, 

" By our saynt Rycharde." 
With that cam in a fat-heded monke, 

The high cellarer : 

11 

" He is dede or hanged," sayd the monke 

" By him that bought me dere ; 
And we shall have to spende in this place 

Foure hondred pounde by yere. " 

12 

The abbot and the high cellarer, 

Sterte forthe full bolde ; 
The High Justyce of Englonde 

[With] the abbot there dyd holde. 

13 

The High Justyce and many mo 

Had take into their honde 
Wholly all the knyghtes det, 

To put that knyght to wronge. 

H 

They demed the knyght wonder sore, 

The abbot and hys meyne : 
1 ' But he come this ylke day 

Disheryted shall he be." 
"demed," doomed, judged. "meyne," company. 



176 The Ballad Book 

15 

" He wyll not come yet," sayd the justyce, 

"I dare well undertake." 
But in sorry tyme for them all, 

The knyght came to the gate. 

16 
Than bespake that gentyll knyght, 

Untyll his meyne, 
"Now put on your simple wedes 

That ye brought fro the see." 

17 

[They put on their simple wedes,] 

And came to the gates anone, 
The porter was redy hymselfe, 

And welcomed, them everychone. 

18 

" Welcome, syr knyght," sayd the porter, 

' ' My lord to mete is he, 
And so is many a gentyll man, 

For the love of thee. " 

19 

The porter swore a full grete othe, 

, [When he his horse did see] : 
" Here be the best coresed horse _ 

That ever yet sawe I me. 

20 
" Lede them into the stable," he sayd, 

" That eased myght they be." 
" They shall not come therein," sayd the knyght, 

["Thy stable liketh not me."] 

"ylke," same. " wedes," clothes. "mete," meat. 

" so," should be " wo " (?) " coresed," harnessed [Halliwell). 



A Lyiell Geste of Robyn Hode 177 

21 
Lordes were to mete isette 

In that abbotes hall, 
The knyght went forth and kneled downe, 

And salved them grete and small. 

22 
" Do gladly, syr abbot, " sayd the knyght, 

" I am come to holde my day." 
The fyrst word the abbot spake, 

" Hast thou brought my pay ? " 

23 

" Not one peny," sayd the knyght, 

[" Alas ! it might not be."] 
"Thou art a shrewed dettour," sayd the abbot; 

"Syr justyce, drynke to me. 

24 
" What doost thou here/' sayd the abbot, 

" But thou haddest brought thy pay ? " 
"For heaven," than sayd the knyght, 

" To pray of a lenger daye." 

25 
" Thy daye is broke," sayd the justyce, 

" Londe getest thou none." 
"Now, good syr justice, be my frende, 

And fende me of my fone." 

26 
"I am holde with the abbot," sayd the justyce, 

"Bothe with cloth and fee." 
" Now, good syr sheryf, be my frende ! " 

"Nay, fore heaven," sayd he. 

11 salved," said " save you ! " " fone," foes. 

12 



178 The Ballad Book 

27 
" Now, good syr abbot, be my frende, 

For thy curteyse, 
And holde my londes in thy honde 

Tyll I have made thee gree ; 

28 
* c And I wyll be thy true servaunte, 

And trewely serve the, 
Tyl ye have foure hondred pounde 

Of money good and free/' 

29 
The abbot sware a full grete othe, 

[A solemn othe sware he :] 
" Get the londe where thou may, 

For thou getest none of me." 

30 
["Now by our Lady,"] sayd the knyght, 

[" Whose aidance have I besought,] 
But I have my londe agayne, 

Full dere it shall be bought/' 

31 

The abbot lothely on hym gan loke, 

And vylaynesly hym gan call : 
" Out," he sayd, " thou false knyght, 

Spede thee out of my hall ! " 

32 
"Thou lyest," then sayd the gen tyll knyght, 

"Abbot in thy hal ; 
False knyght was I never, 
By him that made us all." 

"gree," satisfaction. "but," unless. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyji Ilode 179 

33 
Up then stode that gentyll knyght, 

To abbot sayd he, 
"To suffre a knyght to knele so longe, 

Thou canst no curteysye ; 

34 
"In joustes and in tournement 

Full ferre than have I be, 
And put myselfe as ferre in prees 

As ony that ever I se." 

35 
" What wyll ye gyve more ? " said the justyce, 

" And the knyght shall make a releyse ; 
And elles dare I safely swere 

Ye holde never your londe in pees. " 

36 

" An hondred pounde," sayd the abbot. 

The justyce sayd, " Gyve him two." 
"Nay, be heaven," sayd the knyght, 

" Yet gete ye it not soo : 

37 
" Though ye wolde gyve a thousande more, 

Yet were ye never the nere ; 
Shall there never be myn eyre, 

Abbot, justyse, ne frere." 

38 

He sterte hym to a borde anone, 

Tyll a table rounde, 
And there he shoke out of a bagge 

Even foure hondred pounde. 

" in prees," in press, i. e. of combat. " soo," so. 

" eyre," heir. " frere," a friar. 



180 The Ballad Book 

39 
" Have here thy golde, syr abbot," sayd the knyght, 

"Which that thou lentest me ; 
Haddest thou ben curteys at my comynge 

Rewarde sholdest thou have be." 

40 
The abbot sat styll, and ete no more, 

For all his ryall chere, 
He cast his hede on his sholder, 

And fast began to stare. 

41 
" [Bring] me my golde agayne," sayd the abbot, 

" Syr justyce, that I toke thee." 
" Not a peny," said the justyce, 

[" Thou diddest but pay my fee,"] 

42 
" Syr abbot, and ye men of lawe, 

Now have I holde my daye, 
Now shall I have my londe agayne, 

For aught that you can saye." 

43 
The knyght stert out of the dore, 

Awaye was all his care, 
And on he put his good clothynge, 

The other he lefte there. 

44 
He wente hym forthe full mery syngynge, 

As men have tolde in tale, 
His lady met hym at the gate, 
At home in " Wierysdale." 
" ryall chere," royal cheer. " holde my daye," kept my day. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 

45 
" Welcome, my lorde," sayd his lady ; 

' ' Syr, lost is all your good ? " 
" Be mery, dame," sayd the knyght, 

" And praye for Robyn Hode, 

4 6 

" That ever his soule be in blysse, 
He holpe me out of my tene ; 

Ne had not be his kyndenesse, 
Beggars had we bene. 

47 
* ' The abbot and I acordyd bene ; 

He is served of his pay ; 
The good yeman lent it me, 

As I came by the way." 

48 

This knyght than dwelled fayre at home, 

The soth for to say, 
Tyll he had got foure hondreth pounde, 

All redy for to paye. 

49 
He purveyed hym an hondred bowes, 

The strenges [were] welle dyght, 
An hondred shefe of arovves good, 

The hedes burnyshed full bryght, 

5o 
And every arowe an elle longe, 

With pecocke well ydyght, 
Inocked all with whyte sylver, 

It was a semly syght. 

' tene, " grief. " dyght," prepared, finished, 

"inocked,'' notched. 



1 82 The Ballad Book 

51 
He purveyed hym an hondreth men, 

Well harneysed in that stede, 
And hymselfe in that same sete, 

And clothed in whyte and rede. 

52 
He bare a launsgay in his honde, 

And a man ledde his male, 
And reden with a lyght songe, 

Uuto Barnysdale. 

53 
As he went at a brydge ther was a wrastelyng, 

And there taryed was he, 
And there was all the best yemen 

Of all the west countree. 

54 
A full fayre game there was upset, 

A whyte bull up ipyght ; 
A grete courser with sadle and brydil, 

With golde burneyshed full bryght ; 

55 
A payre of gloves, a rede golde rynge, 

A pype of wyne, in good fay : 
W T hat man bereth him best, I wys, 

The pryce shall bere away. 

56 

There was a yeman in that place, 

And best worthy was he ; 
And for he was ferre, [without] frend bestad, 

Islayne he sholde have be. 

" stede," place (?) " sete" (?) " launsgay," lance (?) 

" male," baggage. " upset," set up. " ipyght," fixed, fastened. 

" fay," faith. " pryce," prize. ii ferre," from afar. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 183 

57 
The knyght had ruth of this yeman, 

In place where that he stode, 
He said that yoman sholde have no harme, 

For love of Robyn Hode. 

58 

The knyght presed into the place, 

An hondred followed hym fre, 
With bowes bent, and arowes sharpe, 

For to shende that company. 

59 
They sholdred all, and made hym rome, 

To wete what he wolde say, 
He toke the yeman by the honde, 

And gave hym all the playe ; 

60 
He gave hym fyve marke for his wyne, 

There it laye on the molde, 
And bad it sholde be sette a-broche, 

Diynke who so wolde. 

61 

Thus longe taryed this gentyll knyght, 

Tyll that playe was done, — 
So longe abode Robyn fastynge, 

Thrclioures after the none. 

" bestad," beset (?) " shende," hurt, punish. 

" there," where. *' molde," ground. 



184 The Ballad Book 



THE THYRDE FYTTE 

{Little John goes into the service of the Sheriff, robs his house, 
and entices him into the hands of Robin Hood.] 



LYTH and lysten, gentyll men, 
All that now be here, 
Of Lytell Johan, that was the knyghtes man, 
Good myrthe shall ye here. 

2 
It was upon a mery day, 

That yonge men wolde go shete, 
Lytell Johan fet his bowe anone, 

And sayd he wolde them mete. 

3 
Thre tymes Lytell Johan shot about, 

And alway cleft the wande, 
The proude sheryf of Notyngham 

By the markes gan stande. 

4 
The sheryf saw how Johan shot, 

And a great oath sware he : 
" This man is the best archere 

That yet sawe I me. 

5 
"Say me now, wyght yonge man, 

Thy name now tell to me, 
In what countre were thou born, 

And where may thy wonnynge be ? " 

' shete," shoot. "fet," fetched. " wyght," strong, active. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 185 

6 

" In Holdernesse I was bore, 

I wys, all of my dame ; 
Men call me Reynolde Grenelefe, 

Whan I am at hame." 

7 
"Say me, Reynaud Grenelefe, 

Wolte thou dwell with me ? 
And eveiy yere I wyll the gyve 

Twenty marke to thy fee." 

8 
"I have a mayster," sayd Lytell Johan, 

' ' A curteys knyght is he ; 
May ye gete leve of hym, 

The better may it bee." 

9 

The sheryfe gate Lytell Johan 

Twelve monethes of the knyght, 
Therfore he gave him ryght anone 

A good hors and a wyght. 

10 
Now is Lytell Johan the sheryffes man, 

Heaven gyve us well to spede ; 
But alway thought Lytell Johan 

To quyte hym well his mede. 

11 

* ' Now so heaven me helpe, " sayd Lytell Johan, 

" And by my trewe lewte, 
I shall be the worste servaunte to hym 

That ever yet had he." 

" I wys," I know, i. e. truly. "To quyte" &c, to pay him 

well his due. " lewte," loyalty, faith. 



1 86 The Ballad Book 

12 

It befell upon a Wednesday, 

The sheryfe on hontynge was gone, 
And Lytell Johan lay in his bed, 

And was foryete at home. 

13 

Therfore he was fastynge 

Tyl it was past the none. 
" Good syr stuard, I pray thee, 

Geve me to dyne," sayd Lytell Johan. 

14 

" It is too long for Grenelefe, 

Fastynge so long to be ; 
Therefore I pray the, stuarde, 

My dyner gyve thou me.''' 

15 

" Shalt thou never ete ne drynke," sayd the stuarde, 

" Tyll my lord be come to towne." 
"I make myn avowe," sayd Lytell Johan, 

"I had lever to cracke thy crowne." 

16 
The butler was ful uncurteys, 

There he stode on flore, 
He sterte to the buttery, 

And shet fast the dore. 

17 

Lytell Johan gave the buteler such a rap, 

His backe yede nygh on two ; 
Tho he lyved an hundreth wynter, 

The wors he sholde go. 
"foryete," forgotten. " none," noon. " yede," went. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 187 

18 

He sporned the dore with his fote, 

It went up wel and fyne, 
And there he made a large lyveray 

Both of ale and \vyne. 

19 

" Syth ye wyl not dyne," sayd Lytell Johan, 

"I shall gyve you to drynke, 
And though ye lyve an hondred wynter, 

On Lytell Johan ye shall thynk." 

20 
Lytell Johan ete, and Lytell [ Johan] dronke, 

The whyle that he wolde. 
The sheryfe had in his kechyn a coke, 

A stoute man and a bolde. 

21 
" I make myn avowe," sayd the coke, 

"Thou arte a shrewde hynde, . 
In an housholde to dwel, 

For to ask thus to dyne." 

22 
And there he lent Lytell Johan 

Good strokes thre. 
" I make myn avowe," sayd Lytell Johan, 

' ■ These strokes lvketh well me. 



" Thou arte a bolde man and an hardy, 

And so thynketh me ; 
And or I passe fro this place, 

Asayed better shalt thou be. " 

u lyveray," the quantity of provisions delivered at one time 
by the butler was called a liven,- Ritson ). " hynde, v servant. 

44 asayed," tried. 



The Ballad Book 

24 
Lytell Johan drewe a good swerde, 

The coke toke another in honde ; 
They thought nothynge for to fie, 

But styfly for to stonde. 

23 
" I make myn avowe," sayd Lytell Johan, 

* ' And be my trevve lewte, 
Thou art one of the best swerdemen 

That ever yet sawe I me. 

26 
" Coowdest thou shote as well in a bo we, 

To grene wood thou sholdest with me, 
And two tymes in the yere thy clothynge 

Ichaunged sholde be ; 

27 
" And every yere of Robyn Hode 

Twenty marke to thy fee." 
" Put up thy swerde," sayd the coke, 

"And felowes wyll we be." 

28 
Then he fette to Lytell Johan 

The numbles of a doe, 
Good brede and full good wyne, 

They ete and dranke therto. 

29 
And whan they had dronken well, 

Ther trouthes togyder they plvght, 
That they wolde be with Robyn 
That ylke same day at nyght. 
"trouthes," troths. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode i8< 

30 

The dyde them to the tresure-hous, 

As fast as they myght gone, 
The lockes that were of good stele 

They brake them everychone ; 

3i 
They toke away the sylver vessell, 

And all that they myght get, 
Peces, masars, and spones, 

Wolde they non forgete ; 

32 
Also they toke the good pence, 

Thre hondred poimde and thre ; 
And dyd them strayt to Robyn Hode, 

Under the grene wode tre. 

33 
"God the save, my dere mayster," 

[Little Johan said he,] 
And than sayd Robyn to Lytell Johan, 

i i Welcome myght thou be ; 

34 
" And also be that fay re yeman 

Thou biyngest there with thee. 
What tydynges fro Notyngham ? 

Lytell Johan, tell thou me.' 1 

35 
" Well thee greteth the proud e sheryfe, 

And sende thee here by me 
His coke and his sylver vessell, 

And thre hondred pounde and thre." 

"plyght," pledged. 
[( Peces, masars, and spones," drinking-cups, bowls, and spoons. 



190 The Ballad Book 

36 

" I make myn avow," sayd Robyn, 

" However the thing may be, 
It was never by his good wyll, 

This good is come to me ! " 

37 
Lytell Johan hym there bethought 

On a shrewed wyle. 
Fyve myle in the forest he ran, 

Hym happed at his wyll ; 

38 

Than he met the proud sheryf, 
Huntynge with hounde and home, 

Lytell Johan coud his curteysye, 
And kneled hym beforne : 

39 
' ' God thee save, my dere mayster, 

Keep thee well," sayd he. 
" Raynolde Grenelefe," sayd the sheryfe, 

" Where hast thou no we be ? " 

40 
" I have be in this forest, 

A fayre syght can I se, 
It was one of the fayrest syghtes 

That ever yet sawe I me ; 

41 
" Yonder I se a ryght fayre hart, 

His coloure is [full shene,] 
Seven score of dere upon an herde 

Be all with hym bedene ; 

" Hym happed at his wyll," i. e. it chanced to him as he wished{?) 
" shene," bright. 



A Lyiell Geste of Robyn Hode 191 

42 
1 ' His tynde are so sharp, mayster, 

Of sexty and well mo, 
That I durst not shote for drede 

Lest thy wolde me sloo." 

43 
" I make myn avowe ! " sayd the sheryf, 

" That syght wolde I fayn se." 
"Buske you thyderwarde, my dere mayster, 

Anone, and wende with me. " 

44 
The sheryfe rode, and Lytell Johan 

Of fote he was full smarte, 
And whan they came afore Robyn : 

44 Lo, here is the mayster harte ! " 

45 
Styll stode the proude sheryf, 

A sory man was he : 
" Wo worth the, Raynolde Grenelefe ! 

Thou hast now betrayed me ! " 

46 

"I make myn avowe," sayd Lytell Johan, 

" Mayster, ye be to blame ; 
I was mysserved of my dynere, 

When I was with you at hame." 

47 
Soone he was to supper sette, 

And served with sylver whyte ; 
And whan the sheryf se his vessell, 
For sorowe he myght not ete. 
' bedene," besides (?) " tynde," antlers. " buske," betake. 



192 77ie Ballad Book 

48 

"Make good chere," sayd Robyn Hode, 

" Sheryfe, for chary te, 
And for the love of Lytell Johan, 

Thy lyfe is graunted to the." 

49 
When they had supped well, 

The day was all agone, 
Robyn commaunded Lytell Johan 

To drawe off his hosen and his shone, 

5o 
His kyrtell and his cote a pye, 

That was furred well fyne, 
And take hym a grene mantell, 

To lappe his body therin. 

51 
Robyn commaunded his wyght yong men, 

Under the grene wood tre, 
They shall lay in that same sorte 

That the sheryf myght them se. 

52 
All nyght laye that proud sheryf, 

In his breche and in his sherte, 
No wonder it was, in grene wode, 

Tho his sydes do smerte. 

53 
" Make glad chere," sayd Robyn Hode, 

* ' Sheryfe, for chary te, 
For this is our order I wys, 
Under the grene wood tre." 

" kyrtell and cote a pye," jacket and cloak. 



A Lytdl Geste of Robyn Hode 193 

54 
" This is harder order," sayd the sheryfe, 

" Than ony anker or frere ; 
For al the golde in mery Englonde 

I wolde not longe dwell here." 

55 
"All these twelve monethes," sayd Robyn, 

" Thou shake dwell with me ; 
I shall thee teche, proud sheryfe, 

An outlawe for to be." 

56 

" Or I here another nyght lye," sayd the sheryfe, 

" Robyn, nowe I praye thee, 
Smyte of my hede rather to-morne, 

And I forgyve it thee. 

57 
"Lete me go," then sayd the sheryf, 

" For saynt Chary te, 
And I wyll be thy best frende 

That ever yet had thee." 

s 8 

"Thou shake swere me an othe," sayd Robyn, 

" On my bryght bronde, 
Thou shalt never awayte me scathe, 

By water ne by londe ; 

59 
' ' And if thou fynde ony of my men, 
By nyght or by day, 

Upon thyne othe thou shalt swere, 
To helpe them that thou may." 

"anker," anchorite. "scathe," injury. 

13 



194 The Ballad Book 

60 
Now have the sheryf iswore his othe, 

And home he began to gone, 
He was as full of grene wode 

As ever was [haw] of stone. " * 



THE FOURTH FYTTE 

{Robin reimburses himself of his loan by means of a Monk of 
St. Mary^s A bbey, and the Knight is free.} 



THE sheryf dwelled in Notynghame, 
He was fayne that he was gone, 
And Robyn and his mery men 
Went to wode anone. 

2 
" Go we to dyner ? " sayd Lytell Johan. 

Robyn Hode sayd, " Nay ; 
For I drede our lady be wroth with me, 

For she sent me not my pay." 

3 
" Have no dout, mayster," sayd Lytell Johan, 

" Yet is not the sonne at rest ; 
For I dare saye, and saufly swere, 

The knyght is trewe and trust. " 

4 
"Take thy bowe in thy hande," sayd Robyn, 

." Let Moch wende with thee, 
And so shall Wyllyam Scathelock, 

And no man abyde with me, 

* i. e. he had enough of it. This seems to have been a popular 
saying (see Childe Maurice) ; but "hip," the word used in each 
place, means, now at least, the dog-rose berry, which has woolly 
seeds, not a stone ; while " haw " makes the image perfect. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 195 

5 
" And walke up into the Sayles, 

And to Watiynge-strete, 
And wayte after some unketh gest, 

Up-chaunce ye may them mete. 

6 
" Whether he be messengere, 

Or a man that myrthes can, 
Or yf he be a pore man, 

Of my good he shall have some. " 

7 
Forth then stert Lytell Johan, 

Half in tray and tene, 
And gyrde hym with a full good swerde, 

Under a mantel of grene. 



They went up to the Sayles, 

These yemen all thre ; 
They loked est, they loked west, 

They myght no man se. 

9 

But as they loked in Barnysdale, 

By the hye waye, 
Than were they ware of two blacke monkes, 

Eche on a good palferay. 

10 

Then bespake Lytell Johan, 

To Much he gan say, 
" I dare lay my lyfe to wedde, 

That these monkes have brought our pay. 

" tray and tene," anger and vexation. " wedde," pawn. 



196 The Ballad Book 



"Make glad chere," sayd Lytell Johan, 

* ' And frese our bowes of ewe, 
And loke your hertes be seker and sad, 

Your stiynges trusty and trewe. 

12 

" The monke hath fifty-two men, 

And seven somers full stronge ; 
There rydeth no bysshop in this londe 

So ryally, I understond. 

13 

"Brethern," sayd Lytell Johan, 

" Here are no more but we thre ; 
But we brynge them to dyner, 

Our mayster dare we not se. 

H 

" Bende your bowes," sayd Lytell Johan, 

" Make all yon prese to stonde ; 
The formost monke, his lyfe and his deth 

Is closed in my honde. 

15 

" Abyde, chorle monke," sayd Lytell Johan, 

* ' No ferther that thou gone ; 
Yf thou doost, by dere worthy god 

Thy deth is in my honde. 

16 

" And evyll thryfte on thy hede," sayd Lytell Johan, 

" Ryght under thy hattes bonde, 
For thou hast made our mayster wroth, 

He is fastynge so longe." 

" frese," try (?) "ewe," yew. "seker and sad," sure 

ajid settled. "somers," sumpter-beasts, carrying baggage. 

"prese," press, crowd. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 197 

17 
" Who is your mayster ? " sayd the monke. 

Lytell Johan sayd, " Robyn Hode." 
" He is a stronge thefe," sayd the monke, 

" Of hym herd I never good." 

18 

" Thou lyest," than sayd Lytell Johan, 

" And that shall rewe thee ; 
He is a yeman of the forest, 

To dyne he hath bode thee. 

19 

Much was redy with a bolte, 

Reddily and a-none. 
He set the monke to fore the brest, 

To the grounde that he can gone. 

20 

Of fyfty-two wyght yonge men, 

There abode not one, 
Saf a lytell page, and a grome 

To lede the somers with Johan. 

21 

They brought the monke to the lodge dore, 

Whether he were loth or lefe, 
For to speke with Robyn Hode, 

Maugre in theyr tethe. 

22 
Robyn dyd adowne his hode, 

The monke whan that he see ; 
The monke was not so curteyse, 

His hode then let he be. 

1 rewe," repent. "bode," bidden. "grome," groom, 
"lefe," willing. 



198 The Ballad Book 

23 

" He is a chorle, mayster, I swere," 

Than sayd Lytell Johan. 
" Thereof no force," sayd Robyn, 

For curteysy can he none. 

24 
" How many men," sayd Robyn, 

44 Had this monke, Johan? " 
" Fyfty and two whan that we met, 

But many of them be gone." 

25 
" Let blowe a home," sayd Robyn, 

"That felaushyp may us knowe." 
Seven score of wyght yemen 

Came pryckynge on a rowe, 

26 
And everych of them a good mantell, 

Of scarlet and of raye, 
All they came to good Robyn, 

To wyte what he wolde say. 

27 
They made the monke to wasshe and wype, 

And syt at his denere. 
Robyn Hode and Lytell Johan 

They served him bothe in fere. 

28 
"Do gladly, monke," sayd Robyn. 

" Gramercy, syr," sayd he. 
" Where is your abbay, whan ye are at home, 

And who is your avowe ? " 

" thereof no force," no matter. " pryckynge," spurring, — 

seems here used for hastening. "raye," striped cloth {Halli- 

ivell). " wyte, " know. "in fere," together. "gra- 

mercy," much thanks. " avowe," patron. 



A Lytell Geste of Roby?i Hode 199 

29 
" Saynt Mary abbay," sayd the monke," 

" Though I be symple here." 
' ' In what offyce ? " sayd Robyn. 

" Syr, the hye selerer." 

30 
1 ' Ye be the more welcome, " sayd Robyn, 

"So ever mote I the. 
Fyll of the best wyne," sayd Robyn, 

" This monke shall drynke to me. 

31 
" But I have grete mervayle," sayd Robyn, 

" Of all this longe day, 
I drede our lady be wroth with me, 

She sent me not my pay." 

32 
" Have no doute, mayster," sayd Lytell Johan, 

' ' Ye have no nede I saye, 
This monke it hath brought, I dare well swere, 

For he is of her abbay." 

33 

" She was a borowe," sayd Robyn, 

6 ' Betwene a knyght and me, 
Of a lytell money that I hym lent, 

Under the grene wode tree ; 

34 
* ' And yf thou hast that sylver ibroughte, 

I praye the let me se, 
And I shall helpe thee eftsones, 

Yf thou have nede of me. " 

"hye selerer," high-cellarer. "mote I the," may 1 thrive, 

"borowe," surety. 



200 The Ballad Book 

35 
The monke swore a full grete othe, 

With a sory chere : 
" Of the borowehode thou spekest to me, 

Herde I never ere. " 

36 

"I make myn avowe," sayd Robyn, 
" Monke, thou arte to blame, 

For god is holde a ryghtwys man, 
And so is his dame. 

37 
"Thou toldest with thyn owne tonge, 

Thou may not say nay, 
How thou arte her servaunt, 

And servest her every day : 

38 

" And thou art made her messengere, 

My money for to pay, 
Therfore I con thee more thanke, 

Thou arte come at thy day. 

39 
" What is in your cofers ? " sayd Robyn, 

"Trewe then tell thou me." 
" Syr," he sayd, " twenty marke, 

Al so mote I the." 

40 
" Yf there be no more," sayd Robyn, 

" I wyll not one peny ; 
Yf thou hast myster of ony more, 

Syr, more I shall lende to the ; 

"eftsones," hereafter [Ritson) ; immediately {Hallhvell). 

"sory chere," sad countenance. "ere," before. 

"myster," need. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 2C 

41 
"And yf I fynde more," sayd Robyn, 

" I wys thou shake it forgone ; 
For of thy spendynge sylver, monk, 

Therof wyll I ryght none. 

42 
"Go nowe forthe, Lytell Johan, 

And the trouth tell thou me ; 
If there be no more but twenty marke, 

No peny that I se." 

43 
Lytell Johan spred his mantell downe, 

As he had done before, 
And he tolde out of the monkes male, 

Eyght hundreth pounde and more. 

44 

Lytell Johan let it lye full styll, 

And went to his mayster in hast : 
" Syr," he sayd, " The monke is trewe ynowe, 

Our lady hath doubled your cost." 

45 
"I make myn avowe," sayd Robyn, 

" (Monke, what tolde I thee ?) 
Our lady is the trewest woman 

That ever yet founde I me. 

46 

"By all that's good," sayd Robyn, 

" To seche all Englond thorowe, 
Yet founde I never to my pay 

A moche better borowe. 

" male," budget. 



202 The Ballad Book 

47 
" Fyll of the best wyne, do hym drynke," sayd Robyn ; 

' * And grete well thy lady hende, 
And yf she have nede of Robyn Hode, 

She shall hym fynde a frende ; 

4 8 

" And yf she nedeth ony more sylver, 

Come thou agayne to me, 
And, by this token she hath me sent, 

She shall have such thre. " 

49 
The monke was going to London ward, 

There to holde grete mote, 
The knyght that rode so hye on hors, 

To brynge hym under fote. 

50 
" Whither be ye away ? " sayd Robyn. 

" Syr, to manors in this londe, 
To reken with our reves, 

That have done moch wronge." 

5i 

The monke toke the hors with spurre, 

No lenger wolde he abyde. 
" Aske to drynke," than sayd Robyn, 

" Or that ye forther ryde." 

52 
6 ' Nay, fore heaven, " than sayd the monke, 

' ' Me reweth I cam so nere ; 
For better chepe I myght have dyned 

In Blythe or in Dankestere. " 

"hende," gentle. "mote," meeting. "reves," bailiffs. 

"Dankestere," Doncaster. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 203 

53 
" Grete well your abbot, " sayd Robyn, 

" And your pryour, I you pray, 
And byd hym sende me such a monke 

To dyner every day." 

54 
Now lete we that monke be sty 11, 

And speke we of that knyght, 
Yet he came to holde his day 

Whyle that it was lyght. 

55 
He dyde him streyt to Barnysdale, 

Under the grene wode tre, 
And he founde there Robyn Hode, 

And all his mery meyne. 

56 

The knyght lyght downe of his good palfray, 

Robyn whan he gan see, 
So curteysly he dyde adoune his hode, 

And set hym on his knee. 

57 
" God the save, good Robyn Hode, 

And al this company. " 
" Welcome be thou, gentyll knyght, 

And ryght welcome to me." 

58 

Than bespake hym Robyn Hode 

To that knyght so fre : 
" What nede dryveth the to grene wode ? 

I pray the, syr knyght, tell me. 
"meyne," company. 



204 The Ballad Book 

59 

" And welcome be thou, gentyl knyght, 

Why hast thou be so longe ? " 
" For the abbot and the hye justyce 

Wolde have had my londe. " 

60 
" Hast thou thy londe agayne ? " sayd Robyn, 

"Treuth than tell thou me." 
" Ye, truly," sayd the knyght, 

" And that thanke I god and the. 

61 

" But take not a grefe, I have be so longe ; 

I came by a wrastelynge, 
And there I dyd holpe a pore yeman, 

With wronge was put behynde." 

62 
"Nay, that is well," sayd Robyn, 

" Syr knyght," that thanke I the ; 
What man that helpeth a good yeman, 

His frende than wyll I be." 

63 

" Have here fourehondred pounde," sayd the knyght, 

"The whiche ye lent to me ; 
And here is also an hondred more 

For your curteysy." 

64 

"Nay, syr knyght," than sayd Robyn, 

" Thou broke it well for ay ; 
For our lady, by her selerer, 

Hath sent to me my pay ; 

" for," because. " broke," enjoy. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 205 

65 

"And yf I toke it twyse, 

A shame it were to me : 
But trewely, gentyll knyght, 

Welcom arte thou to me." 

66 
Whan Robyn had tolde his tale, 

He leugh and had good chere. 
" By my trouthe," then sayd the knyght, 

" Your money is redy here." 

67 
"Broke it well," sayd Robyn, 

' ' Thou gentyll knyght so fre ; 
And welcome be thou, gentill knyght, 

Under my trystell tree. 

68. 
" But what shall these bowes do ? " sayd Robyn, 

" And these arowes ifedered fre ?" 
" By my troth," than sayd the knyght, 

" A pore present to thee." 

69 

"Come now forth, Lytell Johan, 

And go to my treasure, 
And brynge me there foure hondred pounde, 

The monke over-tolde it to me. 

70 
" Have here foure hondred pounde, 

Thou gentyll knyght and trewe, 
And bye hors and harries good, 

And gylte thy spurres all newe : 

' trystell," where he kept tryst or appointment of meeting with 
• his men (?) " bye," buy. 



206 The Ballad Book 

71 

* ' And yf thou fayle ony spendynge, 

Come to Robyn Hode, 
And by my trouth thou shalt none fayle 

The whyles I have any good. 

72 
"And broke well thy four hundred pound, 

Whiche I lent to the, 
And make thy selfe no more so bare, 

By the counsell of me." 



THE FYFTH FYTTE 

\How Robin Hood went to a public shooting at Nottingham, 
•was attacked by the Sheriff, and received into Sir Rich- 
ard^ castle.] 

I 

' OW hath the knyght his leve itake, 
And wente hym on his way ; 
Robyn Hode and his mery men 
Dwelled styll full many a day. 



N' 



2 

Lyth and lysten, gentil men, 
And herken what I shall say, 

How the proud sheryfe of Notyngham 
Dyde crye a full fayre play : 

3 

That all the best archers of the north 

Sholde come upon a day, 
And he that shoteth alderbest 

The game shall bere away. 

" lyth," attend. "alderbest," best of all. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 207 

4 
" He that shoteth alderbest, 

Furthest fayre and lowe, 
At a payre of fynly buttes, 

Under the grene wode shawe. 

5 
" A ryght good arowe he shall have, 

The shaft of sylver whyte, 
The heade and the feders of ryche rede golde, 

In Englonde is none lyke." 

6 
This then herde good Robyn, 

Under his trystell tre : 
* ' Make you redy, ye wyght yonge men, 

That shotynge wyll I se. 

7 
" Buske you, my mery yonge men, 

Ye shall go with me ; 
And I wyll wete the shryves fayth, 

Trewe and yf he be. " 

8 
Whan they had theyr bowes ibent, 

Theyr takles fedred fre, 
Seven score of wyght yonge men 

Stode by Robyns kne. 

9 

Whan they cam to Notyngham, 

The buttes were fayre and longe, 
Many was the bold archere 

That shoted with bowes stronge. 

" fynly,'' goodly. " buske," make ready. "wyght,' 

strong, active. "wete the shryves fayth," know the sheriff's 

faith. "takles," tackles," i. e. arrows. 



208 The Ballad Book 

10 

" There shall but syx shote with me, 
The others shal kepe my hede, 

And stande with good bowes bent, 
That I be not desceyved. " 

II 

The fourth outlawe his bowe gan bende, 
And that was Robyn Hode, 

And that behelde the proude sheryfe, 
All by the butt he stode. 

12 

Thryes Robyn shot about, 
And alway he slist the wand, 

And so dyde good Gylberte, 
With the whyte hande. 

13 

Lytell Johan and good Scatheloke 
Were archers good and fre ; 

Lytell Much and good Reynolde, 
The worste wolde they not be. 

14 
Whan they had shot aboute, 

These archours fayre and good, 
Evermore was the best, 

Forsoth, Robyn Hode. 

15 

Hym was delyvered the goode arow, 

For best worthy was he ; 
He toke the yeft so curteysly ; 

To grene wode wolde he. 

"slist," sliced. "yeft," gift. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 209 

16 
They cryed out on Robyn Hode, 

And great homes gan they blowe. 
" Wo worth thee, treason ! " sayd Robyn, 

" Full evyl thou art to knowe. 

17 

" And wo be thou, thou proud sheryf, 

Thus gladdynge thy gest, 
Other wyse thou behote me 

In yonder wylde forest ; 

18 

8 ' But had I thee in grene wode, 

Under my trystell tre, 
Thou sholdest leve me a better wedde 

Than thy trewe lewte. " 

19 
Full many a bowe there was bent, 

And arowes let they glyde, 
Many a kyrtell there was rent, 

And hurt many a syde. 

20 
The outlawes' shot was so stronge, 

That no man myght them dryve, 
And the proud sheryfes men 

They fled away full blyve. 

21 

Robyn sawe the busshement to-broke ; 

In grene wode he wolde have be ; 
Many an arowe there was shot 

Amonge that company. 

'gest," guest. " behote," promised. "wedde," pledge. 

"lewte," loyalty, good faith. "kyrtell," short coat, 

'blyve," briskly. " busshement to-broke," ambush broken up. 

H 



The Ballad Book 

22 

Lytell Johan was hurte full sore, 
With an arowe in his kne, 

That he myght neyther go nor ryde ; 
It was full grete pyte. 

23 
"Mayster," then sayd Lytell Johan, 

" If ever thou lovest me, 
And for that ylke lordes love, 

That dyed upon a tre, 

24 
" And for the medes of my servyce, 

That I have served the, 
Lete never the proude sheryf 

Alyve now fynde me ; 

25 
" But take out thy browne swerde, 

And smyte all of my hede, 
Or gyve me woundes deep and wyde, 

So to leve me dede." 

26 
"I wolde not that," sayd Robyn, 

"Johan, that thou were slawe, 
For all the golde in mery Englond, 

Though it lay now on a rawe. " 

27 
" God forbede," sayd lytell Much, 

"That dyed on a tre, 
That thou sholdest, Lytell Johan, 
Parte our company." 
'ylke," same. "medes," reward. "rawe," re 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 

28 
Up he toke hym on his backe, 

And bare hym well a myle, 
Many a tyme he layd hym downe, 

And shot another whyle. 

29 
Then was there a fayre castell, 

A lytell within the wode, 
Double-dyched it was about, 

And walled, by the rode ; 

30 

And there dwelled that gentyll knyght, 

Syr Rychard at the Lee, 
That Robyn had lent his good, 

Under the grene wode tre. 

31 

In he toke good Robyn, 

And all his company : 
"Welcome be thou, Robyn Hode, 

Welcome art thou [to] me ; 

32 
"And moche [I] thanke the of thy comfort, 

And of thy curteysye, 
And of thy grete kyndenesse, 

Under the grene wode tre. 

33 _ 
" I love no man in all this worlde 

So moch as I do the ; 
For all the proud sheryf of Notyngham, 
Ryght here shalt thou be. 
"rode," rood. 



TJie Ballad Book 

34 
" Shet the gates, and drawe the bridge, 

And let no man com in ; 
And arme you well, and make you redy, 

And to the walle ye wynne. 

35 
" For one thyng, Robyn, I thee behote : 

I swere by saynt Quyntyn, 
These twelve dayes thou wonest with me, 

To suppe, ete, and dyne." 

36 

Bordes were layed, and clothes spred, 

Reddely and anone ; 
Robyn Hode and his mery men 

To mete gan they gone. 



THE SYXTE FYTTE 

[The Sheriff" casts the Knight into prison, and Robin rescues 
him.~\ 



LYTHE and lysten, gentylmen, 
And herken unto your songe ; 
How the proude sheryfe of Notyngham, 
And men of armes stronge, 

2 
Full fast came to the hye sheryfe, 

The countre up to rout, 
And they beset the knyghts castell, 
The walles all about. 

"behote," promise. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 

3 

The proude sheryf loude gan crye, 
And sayd, "Thou traytour knyght, 

Thou kepeste here the kynges enemye, 
Agayne the lavves and ryght. " 

4 
" Syr, I \vyll avowe that I have done 

The dedes that here be dyght, 
Upon all the londes that I have, 

As I am a trewe knyght. 

5 

" Wende forthe, syrs, on your wave, 

And doth no more to me, 
Tyll ye wytte our kynges wyll 

What he woll say to the." 

6 

The sheref thus had his answere, 

With out ony leasynge, 
Forthe he yode to London to Line, 

All for to tel our kynge. 

7 
There he tolde him of that knyght, 

And eke of Robyn Hode, 
And also of the bolde archeres, 

That [wonned in the grene wocle]. 



" He wolde avowe that he had done, 
To mayntayne the outlawes stronge, 

He wolde be lorde, and set you at nought, 
In all the north londe. " 
" dyght," done. " leasynge,*' lying. 



214 The Ballad Book 

9 

" I woll be at Notyngham," sayd the kynge, 

"Within this fourtynyght, 
And take I wyll Robyn Hode, 

And so I wyll that knyght. 

10 

" Go home, thou proud sheryf, 

And do as I bydde the, 
And ordayne good archeres inowe, 

Of all the wyde countree. " 

ii 

The sheryf had his leve itake, 

And went hym on his way ; 
And Robyn Hode to grene wode [went] 

Upon a certayn day ; 

12 

And Lytell Johan was hole of the arowe, 

That shote was in his kne, 
And dyd hym strayte to Robyn Hode, 

Under the grene wode tre. 

13 
Robyn Hode walked in the foreste, 

Under the leves grene, 
The proud sheryfe of Notyngham, 

Therefore he had grete tene. 

U 

The sheryf there fayled of Robyn Hode, 

He myght not have his pray ; 
Then he away ted that gentyll knyght, 

Bothe by nyght and by daye. 
" tene," vexation. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 215 

15 

Ever he awayted that gentyll knyght, 

Syr Ry chard at the Lee ; 
As he went on haukynge by the ryver syde, 

And let his haukes flee, 

16 
Toke he there this gentyll knyght, 

With men of armes stronge, 
And lad hym home to Notyngham warde, 

Ibonde both fote and honde. 

17 

The sheryf swore a full grete othe, 

By all that sacred be, 
He had lever than an hondrede pounde, 

That Robyn Hode had he. 

18 

Then the lady, the knyghtes wyfe, 

A fayre lady and fre, 
She set her on a gode palfray, 

To grene wode anon rode she. 

19 
When she came to the forest, 

Under the grene wode tre, 
Founde she there Robyn Hode, 

And all his fayre meyne. 

20 
"God the save, good Robyn Hode, 

And all thy company ; 
For Our Dere Ladyes love, 
A bone graunte thou me. 

"warde," prison. " bone," boon. 



216 The Ballad Book 



" Let thou never my wedded lorde 

Shamfully slayne to be ; 
He is fast ibounde to Notyngham warde, 

For the love of the. " 



Anone then sayd good Robyn 

To that lady fre, 
" What man hath your lorde itake ? " 

"The proude shirife," than sayd she. 

23 
" [The proude sheryfe, hath hym itake,] 

Forsoth as I the say ; 
He is not yet thre myles 

Passed on his waye. " 

24 
Up then sterte good Robyn, 

As a man that had be wode : 
" Buske you all, my mery younge men, 

[To Nottingham lieth our road. "] 

25 
Sone there were good bowes ibent, 

Mo than seven score, 
Hedge ne dyche spared they none, 

That was them before. 

26 
"I make myn avowe," sayd Robyn, 

' ' The knyght wolde I fayn se, 
And yf I may hym take, 
Iquyt than shall he bee." 

"wode," mad. "iquyt," quit. 



A Lyiell Geste of Robyn Hode 2 1 7 

27 
And whan they came to Notyngham, 

They walked in the strete, 
And with the proud sheryf, I wys, 

Sone gan they mete. 

28 
"Abyde, thou proud sheryf," he sayd, 

" Abyde and speake with me ; 
Of some tydynges of our kynge 

I wolde fayne here of the. 

29 
" This seven yere, by my troth, 

Ne yede I so fast on fote : 
I make myn avowe, thou proud sheryfe, 

It is not for thy good." 

30 
Robyn bent a good bowe, 

An arrowe he drewe at his wyll, 
He hyt so the proud sheryf, 

Upon the grounde he lay full styll ; 

31 

And or he myght up aryse, 

On his fete to stonde, 
He smote of the sheryves hede 

With his bryght bronde. 

32 
" Lye thou there, thou proud sheryf, 

Evyll mote thou thryve ; 
There myght no man to the trust, 
The whyles thou were alyve. " 
"yede," went. 



218 The Ballad Book 

33 
His men drewe out theyr bryght swerdes, 

That were so sharpe and kene, 
And layde on the sheryves men, 

And dryved them downe bydene. 

34 
Robyn stert to that knyght, 

And cut a two his bonde, 
And toke hym in his hand a bowe, 

And bade hym by hym stonde. 

35 
" Leve thy hors the behynde, 

And lerne for to renne ; 
Thou shalt with me to grene wode, 

Through myre, mosse, and fenne ; 

36 

" Thou shalt with me to grene wode, 

Without ony leasynge, 
Tyll that I have gete us grace 

Of Edwarde our comly kynge. " 



THE SEVENTH FYTTE 
\TJie King visits Robin Hood.] 

I 

THE kynge came to Notynghame, 
With knyghtes in grete araye, 
For to take that gentyll knyght, 
And Robyn Hode, yf he may. 
" bydene," together, or forthwith. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 219 

2 
He asked men of that countre, 

After Robyn Hode, 
And after that gentyll knyght, 

That was so bolde and stout. 

3 

Whan they had tolde hym the case, 

Our kynge understonde ther tale, 
And seased in his honde 

The knyghtes londes all. 

4 
All the passe of Lancasshyre, 

He went both ferre and nere, 
Tyll he came to Plomton parke, 

He fay lyd many of his dere. 

5 

There our kynge was wont to se 

Herdes many one, 
He coud unneth fynde one dere, 

That bare ony good home. 

6 

The kynge was wonder wroth withall, 

And swore by the trynyte, 
"I wolde I had Robyn Hode, 

With eyen I myght hym se ; 

7 
"And he that wolde smyte of the knyghtes hede, 

And brynge it to me, 
He shall have the knyghtes londes, 
Syr Rycharde at the Le ; 

" faylyd," missed. " unneth," hardly. 



The Ballad Book 



" I gyve it hym with my charter, 

And sele it with my honde, 
To have and holde for evermore, 

In all mery Englonde." 

9 
Than bespake a fayre olde knyght, 

That was treue in his fay : 
"A, my lege lorde the kynge, 

One worde I shall you say ; 

10 

" There is no man in this countre 

May have the knyghtes londes, 
While Robyn Hode may ryde or gone, 

And bere a bowe in his hondes, 

n 

" That he ne shall lese his hede, 
That is the best ball in his hode : 

Give it no man, my lorde the kynge, 
That ye wyll any good." 

12 

Half a yere dwelled our comly kynge 

In Notyngham, and well more ; 
[Yet] coude he not here of Robyn Hode, 

In what countre that he were ; 

13 

But alway went good Robyn 

By halke and eke by hyll, 
And alway slewe the kynges dere, 

And welt them at his wyll. 

' fay," faith. " lese his hede," lose his head. " hode," hood, 
'here," hear. " halke," corner (?) "welt," overthrew. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 221 

H 

Than bespake a proude fostere, 

That stode by our kynges kne : 
1 ' If ye wyll se good Robyn, 

Ye must do after me. 

15 
" Take fyve of the best knyghtes 

That be in your lede, 
And walke downe by yon abbay, 

And gete you monkes wede. 

16 
* c And I wyll be your ledesman, 

And lede you the way, 
And or ye come to Notyngham, 

Myn hede then dare I lay, 

17 
1 ' That ye shall mete with good Robyn, 

On lyve yf that he be, 
Or ye come to Notyngham, 

With eyen ye shall hym se." 

18 

Full hastly our kynge was dyght, 

So were his knyghtes fyve, 
Everych of them in monkes wede, 

And hasted them thyder blyth. 

19 
Our kynge was grete above his cole, 

A brode hat on his crowne, 
Ryght as he were abbot-lyke, 

They rode up in-to the towne. 

c fostere," forester. " after me," as I say. " lede," train (?) 

>r land (?) "wede," dress. "ledesman," guide. 

" cole," neck [I) or cowl (?) 



The Ballad Book 

20 
Styf botes our kynge had on, 

Forsoth as I you say, 
He rode syngynge to grene wode, 

The covent was clothed in graye, 

21 

His male hors, and his grete somers, 

Folowed our kynge behynde, 
Tyll they came to grene wode, 

A myle under the lynde, 

22 
There they met with good Robyn, 

Stondynge on the waye, 
And so dyde many a bolde archere, 

For soth as I you say. 

23 
Robyn toke the kynges hors 

Hastely in that stede, 
And sayd, " Syr abbot, by your leve, 

A whyle ye must abyde ; 

24 
" We be yemen of this foreste, 

Under the grene wode tre, 
We lyve by our kynges dere, 

Other shyft have not we ; 

25 
" And ye have chyrches and rentes both, 

And gold full grete plente ; 
Gyve us some of your spendynge, 

For saynt Charyte." 

' male hors," baggage-horse. " somers," sumpters. 

" lynde," trees (lindens). 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 223 

26 
Than bespake our cumly kynge, 

Anone than sayd he, 
* ' I brought no more to grene wode 

But forty pounde with me. 

27 
" I have layne at Notyngham 

This fourtynyght with our kynge, 
And spent I have full moche good, 

On many a grete lordynge ; 

28 
"And I have but forty pounde, 

No more than have I me, 
But yf I had an hondred pounde, 

I would geve it to the." 

29 
Robyn toke the forty pounde, 

And departed it in two partye, 
Halfendell he gave his mery men, 

And bad them mery to be. 

30 

Full curteysly Robyn gan say, 

" Syr, have this for your spendyng, 
We shall mete a nother day." 

" Gramercy," than sayd our kynge ; 

31 

" But well the greteth Edward e our kynge, 

And sent to the his seale, 
And byddeth the com to Notyngham, 

Both to mete and mele." 



224 The Ballad Book 

32 
He toke out the brode tarpe, 

And sone he lete hym se ; 
Robyn coud his courteysy, 

And set hym on his kne : 

33 
•* I love no man in all the worlde 

So well as I do my kynge. 
Welcome is my lordes seale ; 

And, monke, for thy tydynge. 

34 

" Syr abbot, for thy tydynges, 
To-day thou shalt dyne with me, 

For the love of my kynge 
Under my trystell tre." 

35 
Forth he lad our comly kynge, 

Full fayre by thy honde, 
Many a dere there was slayne, 

And full fast dyghtande. 

36 

Robyn toke a full grete home, 

And loude he gan blowe : 
Seven score of wyght yonge men 

Came redy on a rowe, 

37 
All they kneeled on theyr kne, 

Full fayre before Robyn. 
The kynge sayd hymselfe untyll, 
And swore by saynt Austyn, 
"tarpe," (?) " dyghtande," readied. "wyght," active. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 225 

38 

" Here is a wonder semely syght ; 

Me thynketh by this sign, 
His men are more at his byddynge, 

Then my men be at myn. " 

39 
Full hastly was theyr dyner idyght, 

And therto gan they gone, 
They served our kynge with al theyr myght, 

Both Robyn and Lytell Johan. 

40 
A none before our kynge was set 

The fatte venyson, 
The good whyte brede, the good red wyne, 

And therto the fyne ale browne. 

41 
"Make good chere," sayd Robyn, 

" Abbot, for chary te ; 
And for this ylke tydynge, 

Blyssed mote thou be. 

42 
" Now shalte thou se what lyfe we lede, 

Or thou hens wende, 
Than thou may enfourme our kynge, 

Whan ye togyder lende. " 

43 
Up they sterte all in hast, 

Theyr bowes were smartly bent, 
Our kynge was never so sore agast, 
He wende to have be shente. 
" lende, " tarry. "shente," destroyed. 

15 



226 The Ballad Book 

44 
Two yerdes there were up set, 

Thereto gan they gange ; 
By fifty pase, our kynge sayd, 

The merkes were too longe. 

45 
On every syde a rose garlonde, 

They shot under the lyne. 
" Who so fayleth of the rose garlonde," sayd Robyn, 

" His takyll he shall tyne, 

4 6 

" And yelde it to his mayster, 

Be it never so fyne ; 
For no man wyll I spare, 

So drynke I ale or wyne ; 

47 
" And bere a buffet on his hede, 

I wys ryght all bare." 
And all that fell in Robyn's lote, 

He smote them wonder sare. 



Twyse Robyn shot aboute, 

And ever he cleved the wande, 
And so dyde good Gylberte, 

With the whyte hand ; 

49 
Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke, 

For nothyng wolde they spare, 
W T hen they fayled of the garlonde, 

Robyn smote them full sair. 

u yerdes," rods. " gan they gange," began they to go. 

" merkes," marks. " takyll," tackle. " tyne," lose. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 227 

5o 
At the last shot that Robyn shot, 

For all his frendes fare, 
Yet he fayled of the garlonde, 

Thre fyngers and mair. 

51 

Than bespake good Gylberte, 

And thus he gan say : 
"Mayster/' he sayd, " your takyll is lost, 

Stand forth and take your pay." 

52 
" If it be so," sayd Robyn, 

" That may no better be ; 
Syr abbot, I delyver the myn arowe, 

I pray the, syr, serve thou me." 

53 
" It falleth not for myn order," sayd our kynge, 

' ' Robyn, by thy leve, 
For to smyte no good yeman, 

For doute I sholde hym greve. " 

54 
" Smyte on boldely," sayd Robyn, 

" I give the large leve." 
Anone our kynge, with that worde, 

He folde up his sieve, 

55 
And sych a buffet he gave Robyn, 

To grounde he yede full nere. 
" I make myn avowe," sayd Robyn, 
" Thou arte a stalworthe frere ; 
"fare," boast (?). 



228 The Ballad Book 

56 
"There is pith in thyn arme," sayd Robyn, 

" I trowe thou canst well shote." 
Thus our kynge and Robyn Hode 

Togeder than they met. 

57 
Robyn behelde our comly kynge 

Wystly in the face, 
So dyde syr Richarde at the Le, 

And kneied downe in that place ; 

58 

And so dyde all the wylde outlawes, 

Whan they se them knele. 
" My lorde the kynge of Englonde, 

Now I knowe you well. " 

59 . 
6 6 Mercy," then Robyn sayd to our kynge, 

" Under your trystyll tre, 
Of thy goodnesse and thy grace, 

For my men and me ! 

60 
" Yes, for by my troth/' sayd Robyn, 

" And also god me save ; 
I aske mercy, my lorde the kynge, 

And for my men I crave. " 

61 
" Be it so," than sayd our kynge ; 

"Thy peticion I graunt the, 
With that thou leve the grene wode, 

And all thy company ; 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 229 

62 
" And come home, syr, to my courte, 

And there dwell with me." 
" I make myn avowe," sayd Robyn, 

" And ryght so shall it be ; 

63 

" I wyll come to your courte, 

Your servyse for to se, 
And brynge with me of my men 

Seven score and thre. 

64 

* ' But me lyke well your servyse, 

I come agayne full soone, 
And shote at the donne dere, 

As I am wonte to done." 



THE EIGHTH FYTTE 

[Robin enters the King's service, but, after a time, returns to 
the greenwood, where he abides till his death.] 



" T TASTE thou ony grene cloth? " sayd our kynge, 
11 " That thou wylte sell no we to me ? " 

" Ye, in troth," sayd Robyn, 
" Thyrty yerdes and thre." 

2 
" Robyn," sayd our kynge, 

' ; Now pray I the 
To sell me some of that cloth, 
To me and my meyne." 

" donne,'- dun. 



230 The Ballad Book 

3 
" Yes, in troth," then sayd Robyn, 

''Or elles I were a fole ; 
A nother day ye wyll me clothe, 

I trowe, ayenst the Yole." 

4 

The kynge kest of his cote then, 
A grene garment he dyde on, 

And every knyght had so, I wys, 
They clothed them full soone. 

5 
Whan they were clothed in Lyncolne grene, 

They kest away theyr graye. 
" Now we shall to Notyngham," 

All thus our kynge gan say. 

6 
Theyr bowes bente and forth they went, 

Shotynge all in-fere, 
Towarde the towne of Notyngham. 

Outlawes as they were. 

7 
Our kynge and Robyn rode togyder, 

For soth as I you say, 
And they shote plucke-buffet, 

As they went by the way ; 



And many a buffet our kynge wan 

Of Robyn Hode that day : 
And nothynge spared good Robyn 

Our kynge in his pay. 
"fole," fool. "Yole," Christmas, "as," as if. "wan," received. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 23 1 

9 
" So heaven me helpe," sayd our kynge, 

" Thy game is nought to lere ; 
I sholde not get a shote of the, 

Though I shote all this yere. " 

10 

All the people of Notyngham 

They stode and behelde ; 
They sawe nothynge but mantels of grene, 

They covered all the felde ; 

11 

Than every man to other gan say, 

" I drede our kynge be slone ; 
Come Robyn Hode to the towne, I wys, 

On lyve he leveth not one." 

12 
Full hastly they began to fle, 

Both yemen and knaves, 
And olde wyves that myght evyll goo, 

They hypped on theyr staves. 

13 

The kynge loughe full fast, 

And commanded theym agayne ; 

When they se our comly kynge, 
I wys they were full fayne. 

14 

They ete and dranke, and made them glad, 

And sange with notes hye. 
Than bespake our comly kynge, 

To syr Rycharde at the Lee : 

" nought to lere," nowise to learn. "on lyve," alive. 

' yeman and knaves," yeomen and lads. " hypped," limped. 

" fayne," glad. 



232 The Ballad Book 

15 

He gave hym there his londe agayne, 
A good man he bad hym be. 

Robyn thanked our comly kynge, 
And set hym on his kne. 

16 

Had Robyn dwelled in the kynges courte 
But twelve monethes and thre, 

That he had spent an hondred pounde, 
And all his mennes fee. 

17 
In every place where Robyn came, 

Ever more he layde downe, 
Both for knyghtes and for squyres, 

To gete hym grete renowne. 

18 
By than the yere was all agone, . - 

He had no man but twayne, 
Lytell Johan and good Scathelocke, 

Wyth hym all for to gone. 

19 

Robyn sawe younge men shote, 

Full fayre upon a day : 
"Alas ! " than sayd good Robyn, 

* ' My welthe is went away. 

20 
" Somtyme I was an archere good, 

A styffe and eke a stronge ; 
I was commytted the best archere 
That was in mery Englonde. 
" commytted," settled to be. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 233 

21 

" Alas ! " then sayd good Robyn, 

* ' Alas ! and well a woo ! 
Yf I dwele lenger with the kynge, 

Sorowe wyll me sloo." 

22 
Forth than went Robyn Hode, 

Tyll he came to our kynge : 
"My lorde the kynge of Englonde, 

Graunte me myn askynge. 

23 
"I made a chapell in Barnysdale, 

That semely is to se, 
It is of Mary Magdalene, 

And thereto wolde I be ; 

24 

I myght never in this seven nyght, 

No tyme to slepe ne wynke, 
Nother all these seven dayes, 

Nother ete ne drynke. 

25 
" Me longeth sore to Barnysdale, 

I may not be therfro, 
Barefote and wolwarde I have hyght 

Thyder for to go. " 

26 
" Yf it be so," than sayd our kynge, 

" It may no better be ; 
Seven nyght I gyve the leve, 
No lengre, to dwell fro me." 
' wolwarde," in a woollen shirt. "hyght," declared, promised 



234 The Ballad Book 

27 
61 Gramercy, lorde," then sayd Robyn, 

And set hym on his kne ; 
He toke his leve full courteysly, 

To grene wode then went he. 

28 
Whan he came to grene wode, 

In a May mornynge, 
There he herde the notes small 

Of byrdes mery syngynge. 

29 
" It is ferre gone," sayd Robyn, 

"That I was last here, 
Me lyste a lytell for to shote 

At the donne dere." 

30 
Robyn slewe a full grete harte ; 

His home than gan he blow, 
That all the outlawes of that forest 

That home coud they knovve, 

31 

And gadred them togyder, 

In a lytell thro we, 
Seven score of wyght yonge men, 

Came redy on a rowe ; 

32 
And fayre dyde off theyr hodes, 

And set them on theyr kne : 
"Welcome," they sayd, our "mayster, 

Under this grene wode tre." 

"ferre gone," a long time past. " donne," dun. 

"lytell thro we," a short time, soon. 



A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode 235 

33 
Robyn dwelled in grene wode 

Twenty yere and two ; 
For all drede of Edwarde our kynge, 

Agayne wolde he not goo. 

34 
Yet he was begyled, I wys, 

Through a wycked woman, 
The pryoresse of Kyrkesly, 
That nye was of his kynne, 

35 
For the love of a knygbt, 

Syr Roger of Donkester, 
That was her owne speciall, — 

Full evyll mote they fare ! 

36 

They toke togyder theyr counsell 

Robyn Hode for to sie, 
And how they myght best do that dede, 

His banis for to be. 

37 
Than bespake good Robyn, 

In place where as he stode, 
" To-morow I muste to Kyrkesley, 

Craftelv to be leten blode." 

33 

Syr Roger of Donkestere 

With the piyoresse was there, 
And there betrayed was good Robyn Hode, 

Through this false payre. 
"for all drede of," notwithstanding. " banis," bane. 



236 The Ballad Book 

39 
Cryst have mercy on his soule, 

That dyed on the rode ! 
For he was a good out] awe, 

And dyde pore men moch god. 



XLI 

BONNIE GEORGE CAMPBELL 

1 

HIE upon Hielands, 
And low upon Tay, 
Bonnie George Campbell 

Rode out on a day ; 
Saddled and bridled, 
And gallant to see : 
Hame cam' his gude horse, 
But hame cam' na he. 

2 
Out ran his auld mither, 

Greeting fu' sair ; 
Out ran his bonnie bride, 

Reaving her hair. 
He rade saddled and bridled, 

Wi' boots to the knee : 
Hame cam' his gude horse, 

But never cam' he. 

3 
* ' My meadow lies green, 

And my corn is unshorn, 
My barn is to bigg, 

And my babie's unborn." 
"rode," rood, cross. " bigg," build. 



Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor 237 

He rade saddled and bridled, 

Careless and free : 
Toom hame cam' the saddle, 

And never cam' he. 



XLII 

LORD THOMAS AND FALR ELLIXOR 



LORD THOMAS he was a bolde forester, 
And a chaser of the king's deer ; 
Fair Ellinor was a fine woman, 
Lord Thomas he loved her dear. 

2 
" Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," he said, 

" And riddle for both in one ; 
Whether I shall marry with fair Ellinor, 

And let the brown girl alone? " 

3 
" The brown girl she has houses and land, 

Fair Ellinor she has none, 
And I charge you, on my blessing, 

Bring me the brown girl home." 

4 

As it befell on a high holiday, 

As many there are beside, 
Lord Thomas he went to fair Ellinor, 

That should have been his bride. 
" toom," empty. 



238 The Ballad Book 

5 
But when he came to fair Ellinor's bower 

He knocked there at the ring, 
And who was so ready as fair Ellinor 

For to let Lord Thomas in. 



"What news? what news? Lord Thomas," she said, 
" What news hast thou brought unto me? " 

" I am come to bid thee to my wedding, 
And that is bad news for thee. " 

7 
"O God forbid, Lord Thomas," she said, 

" That such a thing should be done ! 
I thought to have been thy bride my own self, 

And you to have been bridegroom." 



" Come riddle my riddle, dear mother," she said, 

" And riddle it all in one ; 
Whether I shall go to Lord Thomas's wedding, 

Or whether I shall tarry at home ? " 

9 
" There 's many that are your friend, daughter, 

But there *s many that are your foe ; 
And I charge you, on my blessing, 

To Lord Thomas's wedding don't go. " 

10 

"There's many that are my friend, mother, 

If a thousand more were my foe : 
Betide me life, betide me death, 

To Lord Thomas's wedding I '11 go." 



Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor 239 

11 

She clothed herself in gallant attire, 

And her merry men all in green, 
And as they rid through every town, 

They took her to be some queen. 

12 

But when she came to Lord Thomas's gate, 

She knocked there at the ring, 
And who was so ready as Lord Thomas 

To let fair Ellinor in. 

13 

" Is this your bride V fair Ellinor said ; 

" Methinks she looks wonderful brown. 
Thou mightest have had as fair a woman 

As ever trod on the ground." 

H 

" Despise her not, fair Ellin," he said, 

" Despise her not unto me, 
For better I love thy little finger 

Than all her whole bodie." 

15 
The brown bride had a little penknife, — 

The blade was slender and sharp, — 
And, between the short ribs and the long, 

Prick' d fair Ellinor to the heart. 

16 

" O, Christ now save thee ! " Lord Thomas he said ; 

" Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan ; 
Thou used to look with as fresh a color 

As ever the sun shined on." 



240 The Ballad Book 

17 

" O art thou blind, Lord Thomas ? " she said, 
" O canst thou not very well see, — 

O dost thou not see my own heart's blood 
Run trickling down by my knee ? " 

18 
Lord Thomas had a sword by his side, 

As he walked about the hall ; 
He cut off his bride's head from her shoulders, 

And threw it against the wall. 

19 

He set the hilt against the ground, 

The point against his heart : 
There never were three lovers met, 

That sooner did depart. 



XLIII 

HUGH OF LINCOLN 

{Showing the cruelty of a Jew's daughter.'] 

I 

A' the boys of merry Lincoln 
Were playing at the ba', 
And up it stands him sweet Sir Hugh, 
The flower among them a\ 

2 
He kicked the ba' there wi' his foot, 

And keppit it wi' his knee, 
Till even in at the Jew's window 
He gart the bonny ba ? flee. 
keppit," caught. 



Hugh of Lincoln 24 1 



"Cast out the ba' to me, fair maid, 

Cast out the ba' to me." 
"Never a bit," says the Jew's daughter, 

"Till ye come up to me." 

4 
"Come up, sweet Hugh, come up, dear Hugh, 

Come up and get the ba'." 
' ' I winna come, I mayna come, 

Without my bonny boys a'." 

5 
She 's ta'en her to the Jew's garden, 

Where the grass grew lang and green, 
She 's pu'd an apple red and white, 

To wyle the bonny boy in. 

6 

She 's wyled him in through ae chamber, 

She 's wyled him in through twa, 
She's wyled him into the third chamber, 

And that was the warst o' a'. 

7 
She 's tied the little boy, hands and feet, 

She 's pierced him wi' a knife, 
She 's caught his heart's blood in a golden cup, 

And twinn'd him o' his life. 



She row'd him in a cake o' lead, 
Bade him lie still and sleep, 

She cast him in a deep draw-well 
Was fifty fathom deep. 

" twinn'd," deprived. 
16 



242 The Ballad Book 

9 

When bells were rung, and mass was sung, 

And every bairn went hame, 
Then ilka lady had her young son, 

But Lady Helen had nane. 

10 
She row'd her mantle her about, 

And sair, sair 'gan she weep ; 
And she ran unto the Jew's house, 

When they were all asleep. 

II 

"My bonny Sir Hugh, my pretty Sir Hugh, 

I pray thee to me speak ! " 
" Lady Helen, come to the deep draw-well 

'Gin ye your son wad seek." 

12 
Lady Helen ran to the deep draw-well, 

And knelt upon her knee : 
"My bonny Sir Hugh, an ye be here, 

I pray thee speak to me ! " 

13 

" The lead is wondrous heavy, mither, 

The well is wondrous deep ; 
A keen penknife sticks in my heart, 

It is hard for me to speak. 

H 

" Gae hame, gae hame, my mither dear, 

Fetch me my winding-sheet ; 
And at the back o' merry Lincoln, 

It 's there we twa sail meet. " 
"ilka," each. 



Barbara Allen's Cruelty 243 

*5 
Now Lady Helen she 's gane hame, 

Made him a winding-sheet ; 
And at the back o' merry Lincoln, 

The dead corpse did her meet. 

16 
And a' the bells o' merry Lincoln 

Without men's hands were mng ; 
And a' the books o' merry Lincoln 

Were read without men's tongue : 
Never was such a burial 

Sin' Adam's days begun. 

XLIV 

BARBARA ALLEN'S CRUELTY. 

1 

ALL in the merry month of May, 
When green buds they were swelling, 
Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay 
For love o' Barbara Allen. 

2 

He sent his man unto her then, 

To the town where she was dwelling : 

" O haste and come to my master dear, 
If your name be Barbara Allen." 

3 

Slowly, slowly rase she up, 

And she cam' where he was Mng ; 
And when she drew the curtain by, 

Says, "Young man, I think you're dying." 



244 The Ballad Book 

4 
"O it's I am sick, and very, very sick, 

And it 's a' for Barbara Allen. " 
" O the better for me ye'se never be, 

Tho' your heart's blude were a-spiliing ! 

5 
" O dinna ye min', young man," she says, 

" When the red wine ye were filling, 
That ye made the healths gae round and round, 

And ye slighted Barbara Allen ? " 

6 

He turn'd his face unto the wa', 
And death was wi' him dealing : 

" Adieu, adieu, my dear friends a' ; 
Be kind to Barbara Allen. " 

7 
As she was walking o'er the fields, 

She heard the dead-bell knelling ; 
And every jow the dead -bell gave, 

It cried " Woe to Barbara Allen ! " 



"O mother, mother, mak' my bed, 
To lay me down in sorrow. 

My love has died for me to-day, 
I'll die for him to-morrow. '' 
"jow," toll. 




May Colvin 245 

XLV 

MAY COLVIN 



FALSE Sir John a-wooing came 
Unto a maiden fair ; 
May Colvin was the lady's name, 
Her father's only heir. 

2 
He 's courted her but, he 's courted her ben, 

He 's courted her in the ha' ; 
Till at last he got this lady's consent 

To mount and ride awa'. 

3 

She 's gane to her father's coffers, 

Where all his money lay.; 
She 's ta'en the red, and she 's left the white, 

And lightly tripped away. 

4 
She 's gane down to her father's stable, 

Where a' his steeds did stand ; 
She 's ta'en the best, and she 's left the warst, 

And they rode from her father's land. 

5 
He rode on, and she rode on, 

They rode a lang simmer's day, 
Till they came thro' the woods to a hie, hie rock, 

Above the deep, deep sea. 



246 The Ballad Book 

6 

4< Loup off the steed ! n says false Sir John ; 

" Your bridal bed you see : 
Seven women I 've drowned here, 

And eight 1 11 make out wi' thee. 

7 
" Cast off, cast off your silks so fine, 

And lay them on a stone ; 
For they are too good and too costly 

To rot in the salt sea-foam. 



"Cast off, cast off your Holland smock, 

And lay it from your hand ; 
It is too fine and too costly 

To toss in the wet sea-sand." 

9 

" O turn thee about, thou false Sir John, 
And look to the leaf o' the tree, 

For it never became a gentleman 
A woman thus to see." 

10 

He turned himself right round about, 
To look to the leaf o' the tree ; 

She 's twined her arms about his waist, 
And thrown him into the sea. 



' O lie thou there, thou false Sir John, 

O lie thou there," said she, 
' For you lie not in a caulder bed 

Than you intended for me." 



May Cohin :_- 

12 

So she rade back on her father's steed, 

As =-."::: is = r.e :::.'. i r.ee. 
And she won hame to her father's gates 

At the breaking of the day. 

13 
Up then spake the pretty parrot, 

In the bonny cage where it lay : 
" O what hae ye done wi' your Sir John, 
That ye went wi* yesterday ? " 

M 

• • N : w hold yonr tongue, my pretty parrot, 

And talk nae mair o' me ; 
Yooj cage shall be made o* the beaten gold, 

And the spakes o' ivorie." 

15 
Uy :ien sy~ke her zither iear. 

In the chamber where he lay : 
"What ails the pretty carrot, 

TV prattle ere break".: £27?" 

16 

" A cat that came to my cage-door, 
I thought 'twould have worried me, 

And 1 vi- tilling :tt :': . .; May . ..... 

X ; take the cat from me." 

■■5; -its." :-e. 



^ 



248 The Ballad Book 

XLVI 

EDWARD, EDWARD 



WHY does your brand sae drop wi' blude, 
Edward, Edward? 
Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude, 

And why sae sad gang ye, ? " 
"01 hae killed my hawk sae gude, 

Mither, mither; 
O I hae killed my hawk sae gude, 
And I hae nae mair but he, O." 

2 
" Your hawk's blude was never sae red, 

Edward, Edward ; 
Your hawk's blude was never sae red, 

My dear son, I tell thee, O." 
"OI hae killed my red-roan steed, 

Mither, mither; 
O I hae killed my red-roan steed, 
That was sae fair and free, O. " 

3 
" Your steed was auld, and ye Ve plenty mair, 

Edward, Edward ; 
Your steed was auld, and ye 've plenty mair ; 

Some ither dule ye dree, O." 
" O I hae killed my father dear, 

Mither, mither ; 
O I hae killed my father dear, 
Alas, and wae is me, O ! " 

"dule ye dree," grief you suffer. 



Edward, Edward 249 

4 
"And whatten penance will ye dree for that, 

Edward, Edward? 
Whatten penance will ye dree for that ? 

My dear son, now tell me, O. " 
" I '11 set my feet in yonder boat, 

Mither, mither ; 
I '11 set my feet in yonder boat, 

And I '11 fare over the sea, O." 

5 

" And what will ye do wi your tow'rs and your ha', 

Edward, Edward? 
And what will ye do wi' your tow'rs and your ha r , 

That were sae fair to see, O ? " 
" I '11 let them stand till they doun fa', 

Mither, mither ; 
I '11 let them stand till they doun fa', 

For here never mair maun I be, O." 



" And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife, 

Edward, Edward? 
And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife, 

When ye gang ower the sea, O ? " 
* ' The warld's room : let them beg through life, 

Mither, mither ; 
The warld's room : let them beg through life ; 
For them never mair will I see, O." 

7 
"And what will ye leave to your ain mither dear, 

Edward, Edward? 
And what will ye leave to your ain mither dear ? 
My dear son, now tell me, O." 



250 The Ballad Book 

"The curse of hell frae me sail ye bear, 

Mither, mither ; 
The curse of hell frae me sail ye bear : 
Sic counsels ye gave to me, ! " 



THE OUTLAW MURRAY 

1 

ETTRICK FOREST is a fair forest, 
In it grows many a seemly tree ; 
There 's hart and hind, and dae and rae, 
And of a' wild beasts great plentie. 

2 
There 's a fair castle, bigged wi' lime and stane ; 

O gin it stands not pleasantlie ! 
In the fore front o' that castle fair, 

Twa unicorns are bra' to see ; 
There 's the picture of a knight and a lady bright, 

And the green hollin abune their bree. 

3 

There an Outlaw keeps five hundred men, 

He keeps a royal company ; 
His merry men a' in ae livery clad, 

O' the Lincoln green sae gay to see ; 
He and his lady in purple clad, 

O gin they live not royallie ! 

4 
Word is gane to our noble King, 

In Edinburgh where that he lay, 
That there was an Outlaw in Ettrick Forest, 
Counted him nought, nor a' his courtrie gay. 
" hollin," holly. " bree," brow. 



The Outlaw Murray 

5 

" I make a vow," then the gude King said, 
" Unto the man that dear bought me, 

I 'se either be King of Ettrick Forest, 

Or King of Scotland that Outlaw sail be ! " 

6 

Then spake the lord hight Hamilton, 

And to the noble King said he, 
"My sovereign prince, some counsel take, 

First at your nobles, syne at me. 

7 
" I rede ye, send yon braw Outlaw till, 

And see gif your man come will he : 
Desire him come and be your man, 

And hold of you yon forest free. 



" Gif he refuses to do that, 

" We '11 conquer baith his lands and he ! 
Or else we '11 throw his castle down, 

And mak' a widow o' his gay ladye. " 

9 

The King then call'd a gentleman, 

James Boyd (the Earl of Arran's brother was he) ; 
When James he came before the King, 

He kneeled before him on his knee. 

io 

" Welcome, James Boyd ! " said our noble King, 

' ' A message ye maun gang for me ; 
Ye maun hie to Ettrick Forest, 

To yon Outlaw, where bideth he. 
"rede," advise. 



252 The Ballad Book 

II 

" Ask him of whom he holds his lands, 

Or man wha may his master be, 
And desire him come and be my man, 

And hold of me yon forest free. 

12 

"To Edinburgh to come and gang, 

His safe warrant I sail gie ; 
And gif he refuses to do that, 

We '11 conquer baith his lands and he. 

13 

"Thou mayst vow I '11 cast his castle down, 
And mak' a widow o' his gay ladye ; 

I '11 hang his merry men, pair by pair, 
In ony frith where I may them see." 

H 

James Boyd took his leave o' the noble King, 

To Ettrick Forest fair cam' he ; 
Down Birkendale Brae when that he cam', 

He saw the fair forest wi' his ee. 

i5 
Baith dae and rae, and hart and hind, 

And of a' wild beasts great plentie ; 
He heard the bows that boldly ring, 

And arrows whidderan' him near by. 

16 
Of that great castle he got a sight ; 

The like he ne'er saw wi* his ee ! 
On the fore front o' that castle fair, 

Twa unicorns were bra' to see ; 
The picture of a knight, and lady bright, 

And the green hollin abune their bree. 

"frith," field : or, perhaps, place of shelter. See Dr. Jamie- 
son's Scottish Dictionary. 



The Outlaw Murray 253 

17 
Thereat he spyed five hundred men, 

Shooting with bows on Newark Lee ; 
They were a' in ae livery clad, 

O' the Lincoln green sae gay to see. 

18 
His men were a' clad in the green, 

The knight was armed capapie, 
With a bended bow, on a milkwhite steed ; 

And I wot they ranked right bonnilie. 

19 
Thereby Boyd kend he was master man, 

And served him in his ain degree. 
"God mote thee save, brave Outlaw Murray ! 

Thy ladye, and all thy chivalrie ! " 
"Marry, thou's welcome, gentleman, 

Some king's messenger thou seems to be." 

20 

" The King of Scotland sent me here, 
"And, gude Outlaw, I am sent to thee ; 

I wad wot of whom ye hold your lands, 
Or man wha may thy master be ? " 

21 
" Thir lands are mine," the Outlaw said ; 

" I ken nae king in Christentie ; 
Frae Soudron I this forest wan, 

When the King nor his knights were not to see." 

22 

"He desires you'll come to Edinburgh, 

And hauld of him this forest free ; 
And, gif ye refuse to do this thing, 

He '11 conquer baith thy lands and thee. 
" Soudron," Southern (?) 



254 The Ballad Book 

He hath vowed to cast thy castle down, 
And mak' a widow o' thy gay ladye ; 

" He '11 hang thy merry men, pair by pair, 
In ony frith where he may them find." 

" Ay, by my troth ! " the Outlaw said, 
' ' Than wauld I think me far behind. 

24 
" Ere the King my fair country get, 

This land that 's nativest to me, 
Mony o' his nobles sail be cauld ; 

Their ladies sail be right wearie." 

25 
Then spak' his lady, fair of face : 

She said, " 'T were without consent of me, 
That an outlaw suld come before a King ; 

I am right rad of treasonrie. 
Bid him be gude to his lords at hame, 

For Edinburgh my lord sail never see. " 

26 
James Boyd took his leave o' the Outlaw keen, 

To Edinburgh boun' is he ; 
When James he cam' before the King, 

He kneeled lowly on his knee. 

27 
" Welcome, James Boyd ! " said our noble King, 

" What forest is Ettrick Forest free?" 
" Ettrick Forest is the fairest forest 

That ever man saw wi' his ee. 

28 
"There 's the dae, the rae, the hart, the hind, 
And of a' wild beasts great plentie ; 

"rad," afraid. 



The Outlaw Murray 255 

There 's a pretty castle of lime and stane, 
O gif it stands not pleasantlie ! 

29 
' ' There 's in the fore front o' that castle 

Twa unicorns, sae bra' to see ; 
There 's the picture of a knight, and a lady bright, 

Wi' the green hollin abune their bree. 

" There the Outlaw keeps five hundred men, 

He keeps a royal companie ; 
His merry men in ae livery clad, 

O' the Lincoln green sae gay to see : 
He and his lady in purple clad ; 

O gin they live right royallie ! 

31 

" He says, yon forest is his awn ; 

He wan it frae the Southronie ; 
Sae as he wan it, sae will he keep it, 

Contrair all kings in Christentie. " 

32 
"Gar warn me Perthshire, and Angus baith, 

Fife, up and down, and Lothians three, 
And graith my horse ! " said our noble King, 

" For to Ettrick Forest hie will I me. 

33 
Then word is gane the Outlaw till, 

In Ettrick Forest, where dwelleth he, 
That the King was coming to his countrie, 

To conquer baith his lands and he. 

34 
" I mak' a vow," the Outlaw said, 
" I mak' a vow, and that trulie : 
"graith," armor. 



256 The Ballad Book 

Were there but three men to tak' my part, 
Yon King's coming full dear suld be ! " 

35 
Then messengers he called forth, 

And bade them hie them speedilye : 
" Ane of ye gae to H alii day, 

The Laird of the Corehead is he. 

36 

" He certain is my sister's son ; 

Bid him come quick and succor me ; 
The King comes on for Ettrick Forest, 

And landless men we a' will be." 

37 
" What news ? what news ? " said Halliday, 

" Man, frae thy master unto me ? " 
* ' Not as ye would, seeking your aid ; 

The King's his mortal enemie." 

38 
"Ay, by my troth ! " said Halliday, 

" Even for that it repenteth me ; 
For gif he lose fair Ettrick Forest, 

He '11 tak' fair Moffatdale frae me. 

39 
"I '11 meet him wi' five hundred men, 

And surely mair, if mae may be ; 
And before he gets the forest fair, 

We a' will die on Newark Lee ! " 

40 
The Outlaw called a messenger, 
And bid him hie him speedilye 



The Outlaw Murray 257 

To Andrew Murray of Cockpool : 

" That man 's a dear cousin to me ; 
Desire him come and mak' me aid 

With a' the power that he may be," 

41 

"It stands me hard," Andrew Murray said, 

"Judge gif it stand na hard wi' me ; 
To enter against a king wi' crown, 

And set my lands in jeopardie ! 
Yet, if I come not on the day, 

Surely at night he sail me see. " 

42 
To Sir James Murray of Traquair, 

A message came right speed ilye : 
" What news ? what news ? " James Murray said, 

" Man, frae thy master unto me?" 

43 
" What needs I tell ? for weel ye ken 

The King 's his mortal enemie ; 
And now he is coming to Ettrick Forest, 

And landless men ye a' will be." 

44 
"And, by my troth," James Murray said, 

" Wi' that Outlaw will I live and dee ; 
The King has gifted my lands lang syne, — 

It cannot be nae warse wi' me." 

45 
The King was coming thro* C addon Ford, 

And full five thousand men was he ; 
They saw the dark forest them before, 
They thought it awsome for to see. 
17 



258 The Ballad Book 

46 
Then spak' the lord hight Hamilton, 

And to the noble King said he, 
"My sovereign liege, some counsel tak', 

First at your nobles, syne at me. 

47 
" Desire him meet thee at Permanscore, 

And bring four in his companie ; 
Five earls sail gang yoursell before, 

Gude cause that you suld honored be. 



"And, gif he refuses to do that, 

We '11 conquer baith his lands and he ; 

There sail never a Murray, after him, 
Hold land in Ettrick Forest free." 

49 
The King then called a gentleman, 

Royal banner-bearer there was he, 
James Hoppringle of Torsonse by name ; 

He cam' and kneeled upon his knee. 

5o 
"Welcome, James Pringle of Torsonse ! 

A message ye maun gang for me : 
Ye maun gae to yon Outlaw Murray, 

Surely where boldly bideth he. 

51 

" Bid him meet me at Permanscore, 
And bring four in his companie ; 

Five earls sail come wi' mysell, 
Gude reason I suld honored be. 



The Outlaw Murray 259 

52 
"And gif he refuses to do that, 

Bid him look for nae good o' me ; 
There sail never a Murray, after him, 

Have land in Ettrick Forest free." 

53 
James cam' before the Outlaw keen, 

And served him in his ain degree : 
" Welcome, James Pringle of Torsonse ! 

What message frae the King to me ? " 

54 
" He bids ye meet him at Permanscore, 

And bring four in your company ; 
Five earls sail gang himsell before, 

Nae mair in number will he be. 

55 
"And gif you refuse to do that, 

(I freely here upgive wi' thee,) 
He '11 cast yon bonny castle down, 

And mak 5 a widow o' that gay ladye. 

56 
" He '11 loose yon bloodhound Borderers, 

Wi' fire and sword to follow thee ; 
There will never a Murray, after thysell, 

Flave land in Ettrick Forest free. " 

57 
"It stands me hard," the Outlaw said, 

"Judge gif it stands na hard wi' me : 
What reck o' the losing of my sell, 

But a' my offspring after me ! 



260 The Ballad Book 

58 
"Auld Halliday, young Halliday, 

Ye sail be twa to gang wi' me ; 
Andrew Murray and Sir James Murray, 

We'll be nae mae in companie. 1 ' 

59 
When that they cam' before the King, 

They fell before him on their knee : 
" Grant mercy, mercy, noble King ! 

E'en for his sake that dyed on tree. " 

60 
" Sicken like mercy sail ye have, 

On gallows ye sail hangit be ! " 
"Over God's forbode," quoth the Outlaw then, 

"I hope your grace will better be ! 
Else, ere you come to Edinburgh port, 

I trow thin guarded sail ye be. 

61 

"Thir lands of Ettrick Forest fair, 

I wan them from the enemie ; 
Like as I wan them, sae will I keep them, 

Contrair a' kings in Christentie. " 

62 
All the nobles the King about, 

Said pity it were to see him dee. 
" Yet grant me mercy, sovereign prince, 

Extend your favor unto me ! 

63 

" I '11 give thee the keys of my castle, 
Wi' the blessing o' my gay ladye, 

Gin thou 'It make me sheriff of this forest, 
And a' my offspring after me." 
"sicken," such. 



The Outlaw Murray 261 

64 

1 ' Wilt thou give me the keys of thy castle, 
Wi' the blessing of thy gay ladye ? 

I 'se make thee sheriff of Ettrick Forest, 
Surely while upward grows the tree ; 

If you be not traitor to the King, 
Forfaulted sail thou never be." 

65 

" But, Prince, what sail come o' my men ? 

When I gae back, traitor they '11 ca' me. 
I had rather lose my life and land, 

Ere my merry men rebuked 1x16/' 

66 
" Will your merry men amend their lives, 

And a' their pardons I grant thee ? 
Now, name thy lands where'er they lie, 

And here I render them to thee. " 

67 

" Fair Philiphaugh is mine by right, 
And Lewinshope still mine shall be ; 

Newark, Foulshiells, and Tinnies baith, 
My bow and arrow purchased me. 

68 
" And I have native steads to me, 

The Newark Lee and Hanginshaw ; 
I have mony steads in Ettrick Forest, 

But them by name I dinna knaw." 

69 

The keys of the castle he gave the King, 
Wi' the blessing o' his fair ladye ; 

He was made sheriff of Ettrick Forest, 
Surely while upward grows the tree ; 



262 The Ballad Book 

And if he was na traitor to the King, 
Forfaulted he suld never be. 

70 
Wha ever heard, in ony times, 

Sicken an outlaw in his degree 
Sic favor get before a King, 

As did Outlaw Murray of the forest free ? 



XLVIII 

THE CRUEL BROTHER 



" /^\ FAIREST lady ever seen, 
V_y With a heigh-ho ! aiid a lily gay, 

Give consent to be my queen," 
As the primrose spreads so sweetly, 

2 
" O you must ask my father dear, 

With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay, 
And the mother, too, that did me bear," 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

3 
" And you must ask my sister Anne, 

With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay, 
And not forget my brother John," 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

4 
"To anger him it were not good, 

With a heigh-ho I a7td a lily gay, 
For he is of a heavy mood," 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 






The Cruel Brother 263 

5 

Now he has asked her father dear, 
With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay, 
And the mother, too, that did her bear, 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 



And he has asked her sister Anne, 
With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay ; 

But he left out her brother John, 
As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

7 
Her father handed her down the stair, 

With a heigh-ho I and a lily gay ; 
Her mother kindly kissed her there, 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 



Her sister Anne through the close her led, 
With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay ; 

Her brother John put her up on her steed, 
As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

9 

" You are high, and I am low, 
With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay ; 

Let me have a kiss before you go/' 
As the primrose spreads so su 



10 

She was louting down to kiss him sweet, 
With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay ; 

Wi' his penknife he wounded her deep, 
As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 



264 The Ballad Book 

11 

" Ride saftly on," said the best young man, 
With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay ; 

" I think our bride looks pale and wan," 
As the pri?nrose spreads so sweetly. 



" take me from my horse, I pray, 
With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay, 

And let me breathe, if so I may," 
As the primrose spreads so sweetly, 

13 

" O lean me on my true love's breast, 
With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay ; 

I want a little time to rest," 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

H 

"I wish I had an hour," she said, 

With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay^ 

"To make my will ere I am dead," 

As the primrose spreads so stveetly. 

15 

" O what would ye leave to your father dear ? " 

With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay. 
"The milkwhite steed that brought me here," 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

16 
" What would ye give to your mother dear ? " 

With a heigh-ho I and a lily gay. 
"My wedding-shift which I do wear," 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 



The Cruel Brother 265 

17 

" But she must wash it very clean, 
With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay ', 
For my heart's blood sticks in every seam," 
As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 



" What would ye give to your sister Anne?" 

With a heigh-ho I and a lily gay. 
" My gay gold ring and my feathered fan," 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

19 

* * What would ye give to your brother John ? " 

With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay. 
" A rope and a gallows to hang him on ! " 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 

20 
" What would ye give to your brother John's wife ? " 

With a heigh-ho ! and a lily gay. 
" Grief and sorrow to end her life ! " 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 



"What would ye give to your own true lover ? " 

With a heigh-ho! and a lily gay. 
61 My dying kiss, and my love for ever ! " 

As the primrose spreads so sweetly. 




266 The Ballad Book 



LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND THE LADY 
BARNARD 

I 

IT fell upon a holy-day, 
As many there be in the year, 
When young men and maids together did go 
Their matins and mass to hear, 

2 
Little Musgrave came to the church-door, 

When the priest was at private mass ; 
But he had more mind of the fair women 

Than he had of Our Lady's grace. 

3 
This one of them was clad in green, 

That other was clad in pall ; 
And then came in my Lord Barnard's wife, 

The fairest amongst them all. 

4 
She cast an eye on little Musgrave, 

As bright as the summer sun ; 
And then bethought this little Musgrave, 

" This lady's heart have I won." 

5 
"A good day unto thee, my handsome youth !" 

In passing forth said she ; 
" Will you come to my bower in Dalisbury, 

And lodge for a while with me?" 



Little Musgrave and the Lady Barnard 267 



"O fain would I go with you, lady, 

But I dare not for my life ; 
For I ken by the rings on your fingers 

That you are Lord Barnard's wife. " 

7 
"Lord Barnard's wife although I be, 

Yet what is that to thee ? 
For we '11 beguile him for this one night ; 

And far away is he." 



Quoth he, ' ' I thank thee, fair lady, 
For the kindness thou showest to me ; 

And whether it be to my weal or woe, 
This night I will lodge with thee." 

9 

All that heard a little tiny page, 

By his lady's coach he ran. 
Quoth he, " Though my lady's footpage I be, 

Yet I am Lord Barnard's man. 

10 

"My good Lord Barnard shall know of this, 

Whether I sink or swim." 
And footsore he came to Lord Barnard's lodging, 

When the stars shone pale and dim. 

II 

" Awaken ! awaken ! my Lord Barnard, 

As thou art a man of life ; 
For little Musgrave is at Dalisbury 

Along with thy wedded wife. " 



268 The Ballad Book 

12 

" If this be true, thou little tiny page, 
This thing thou tellest to me, 

The broadest field in Dalisbury 
I freely will give to thee. 

13 

" If this be a lie, thou little tiny page, 
This thing thou tellest to me, 

On the highest tree in Dalisbury 
Hanged shalt thou be." 

14 

He called up his merry men all : 
" Come saddle to me my steed ; 

For this night I must to Dalisbury, 
I never had greater need." 

15 
There was a man of Lord Barnard's tram y 

And he was of Musgrave's kin ; 
And aye as fast as the horsemen rode 

More nimbly he did run. 

16 
He set a horn unto his mouth, 

Which loudly seem'd to say, 
When he blew his blast so clear and shriU 

"Away, Musgrave, away!" 

17 

Then up he raised him, little Musgrave, 
And drew to him his shoon : 

" Lie still, lie still ! " the lady she cried ; 
" Why get ye up so soon ? " 



Little Mitsgrave and the Lady Barnard 269 

18 
" O, methought I heard a wee horn blow, 

And it blew wondrous clear ; 
And the turning of the bugle-note 

Was aye " Lord Barnard 's here ! " 

19 

"Methought I heard a horn blow shrill, 

And ever it seem'd to say, 
* Lord Barnard 's here ! Lord Barnard 's here ! 

Away, Musgrave, away ! ' " 

20 
" Lie still, lie still, thou little Musgrave, 

And huggle me from the cold ; 
*T is nothing at all but the wintiy wind 

That bloweth across the wold." 

21 

Up they looked, and down they lay, 

And so fell sound asleep ; 
And there of a sudden Lord Barnard stood 

Close at their bed feet. 



He lifted up the coverlet, 

He lifted up the sheet : 
" Dost thou like my bed, thou little Musgrave 1 

Dost thou find my lady sweet?" 

23 
"I find her sweet," quoth little Musgrave, 

"The more it is to my pain ; 
I would gladly give three hundred pounds 

That I were on yonder plain. " 



270 The Ballad Book 

24 

"Arise, thou little Musgrave," quoth he, 

" And put thy clothing on ; 
It shall ne'er be said in my country 

I 've killed a naked man. 

25 
"Here are two swords/' said Lord Barnard, 

' ' They are both sharp and shear ; 
Take you the best and I the worst, 

And we'll end the matter here." 

26 

The first stroke little Musgrave struck, 

He hurt Lord Barnard sore ; 
The next stroke that Lord Barnard struck, 

Little Musgrave never struck more. 

27 
With that bespake this fair lady, 

In bed whereas she lay : 
"Although thou 'rt dead, thou little Musgrave, 

Yet I for thee will pray ; 

28 
"And wish well to thy soul will I, 

So long as I have life ; 
So will I not for thee, Barnard, 

Although I 'm thy wedded wife. " 

29 
Then he has ta'en his bright dagger, 

It was both keen and sharp, 
And he has stricken that fair lady 

A deep wound to the heart. 



Kinmoiit Willie 271 

30 
"Now dig ye a grave,''' Lord Barnard said, 

" And hastily put them in ; 
Yet lay ye her o' the upper hand, 

Because o' her noble kin. " 



KINMONT WILLIE 



OHAVE ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde ? 
O have ye na heard o' the keen Lord Scroope ? 
How they hae ta'en bauld Kinmont Willie, 
On Haribee to hang him up ? 

2 
Had Willie had but twenty men, 

But twenty men as stout as he, 
Fause Sakelde had never the Kinmont ta'en, 

Wi' eight score in his companie. 

3 
They band his legs beneath the steed, 

They tied his hands behind his back ; 
They guarded him, fivesome on each side, 

And they brought him ower the Liddel-rack. 

4 
They led him thro' the Liddel-rack, 
And also thro' the Carlisle sands ; 
They brought him on to Carlisle castle, 
To be at my Lord Scroope's commands. 
" Haribee," the gallows. 



272 The Ballad Book 

5 
" My hands are tied, but my tongue is free, 

And wha will dare this deed avow ? 
Or answer by the Border law ? 

Or answer to the bauld Buccleuch ? " 

6 
"Now haud thy tongue, thou rank reiver ! 

There 's never a Scot shall set thee free : 
Before ye cross my castle yate, 

I trow ye shall Lake farewell o' me. " 

7 
"Fear na ye that, my lord," quo' Willie : 

"By the faith o' my body, Lord Scroope," he said, 
' ' I never yet lodged in a hostelrie, 

But I paid my lawing before I gaed." 

8 
Now word is gane to the bauld Keeper, 

In Branksome Ha' where that he lay, 
That Lord Scroope has ta'en the Kinmont Willie, 

Between the hours of night and day 

9 

He has ta'en the table wi' his hand, 

He garr'd the red wine spring on hie 
" Now a curse upon my head," he said, 

" But avenged of Lord Scroope I '11 be ! 

io 

" O is my basnet a widow's curch ? 

Or my lance a wand of the willow-tree ? 
Or my arm a lady's lily hand, 

That an English lord should lightly me ! 

"basnet," small helmet. "curch," cap. 



Khwiont Willie 273 



" And have they ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, 

Against the truce of Border tide, 
And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch 

Is keeper here on the Scottish side ? 

12 

" And have they e'en ta'en him, Kinmont Willie, 

Withouten either dread or fear, 
And forgotten that the bauld Buccleuch 

Can back a steed, or shake a spear? 

13 

" O were there war between the lands, 

As well I wot that there is none, 
I would slight Carlisle castle high, 

Though it were builded of marble stone. 

14 

"I would set that castle in a low, 

And sloken it with English blood ! 
There 's never a man in Cumberland 

Should ken where Carlisle castle stood. 

15 

1 ' But since nae war 's between the lands, 
And there is peace, and peace should be, 

I '11 neither harm English lad or lass, 
And yet the Kinmont freed shall be ! " 

16 
He has called him forty Marchmen bauld, 

I trow they were of his ain name, 
Except Sir Gilbert Elliot, called 

The Laird of Stobs, I mean the same. 
18 



274 The Ballad Book 

17 

He has called him forty Marchmen bauld, 
Were kinsmen to the bauld Buccleuch ; 

With spur on heel, and splent on spauld, 
And gluves of green, and feathers blue. 

18 

There were five and five before them a', 
Wi* hunting-horns and bugles bright : 

And five and five cam' wi' Buccleuch, 
Like warden's men, arrayed for fight. 

19 

And five and five, like masons gang, 
That carried the ladders lang and hie ; 

And five and five, like broken men ; 
And so they reached the Woodhouselee. 

20 

And as we crossed the 'Bateable Land, 
When to the English side we held, 

The first o' men that we met wi', 

Whae sould it be but fause Sakelde ? 

21 

" Where be ye gaun, ye hunters keen ? " 
Quo' fause Sakelde ; " come tell to me ! " 

" We go to hunt an English stag, 

Has trespassed on the Scots countrie." 

22 
" Where be ye gaun, ye marshal men ? n 

Quo' fause Sakelde ; " come tell me true ! " 
4 ' We go to catch a rank reiver, 

Has broken faith wi' the bauld Buccleuch." 
"splent on spauld " armor on shoulder. 



Kinmont Willie 275 

23 
" Where are ye gaun, ye mason lads, 

Wi' a' your ladders lang and hie ? " 
" We gang to herry a corbie's nest, 

That wons not far frae Woodhouselee. " 

24 
" W T here be ye gaun, ye broken men ? " 

Quo' fause Sakelde ; " come tell to me ! " 
Now Dickie of Dryhope led that band, 

And the nevir a word of lear had he. 

25 
" Why trespass ye on the English side ? 

Row-footed outlaws, stand ! " quo' he ; 
The nevir a word had Dickie to say, 

Sae he thrust the lance through his fause bodie. 

26 
Then on we held for Carlisle toun, 

And at Staneshaw-bank the Eden we crossed 
The water was great and meikie of spait, 

But the never a horse nor man we lost. 

27 
And when we reached the Staneshaw-bank, 

The wind was rising loud and hie ; 
And there the Laird garr'd leave our steeds, 

For fear that they should stamp and neigh. 

28 
And when we left the Staneshaw-bank, 

The wind began full loud to blaw ; 
But 't was wind and weet, and fire and sleet, 

When we came beneath the castle wa\ 

" herry," rob. "corbie," raven. " lear," learning. 

" row-fotoed," rough-footed (?) " spait," flood. 



276 The Ballad Book 

29 
We crept on knees, and held our breath, 

Till we placed the ladders against the wa' ; 
And sae ready was Buccleuch himsell 

To mount the first before us a'. 

30 
He has ta'en the. watchman by the throat, 

He flung him down upon the lead : 
" Had there not been peace between our lands, 

Upon the other side thou hadst gaed ! 

31 

" Now sound out, trumpets ! " quo' Buccleuch ; 

" Let's waken Lord Scroope right merrilie ! " 
Then loud the warden's trumpet blew — 

O wha dare meddle wi' me ? 

32 
Then speedilie to wark we gaed, 

And raised the slogan ane and a', 
And cut a hole through a sheet of lead, 

And so we wan to the castle ha'. 

33 
They thought King James and a' his men 

Had won the house wi' bow and spear ; 
It was but twenty Scots and ten, 

That put a thousand in sic a stear ! 

34 
Wi' coulters, and wi' forehammers, 
We garr'd the bars bang merrilie, 
Until we came to the inner prison, 
Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie. 
" slogan, " war-cry. "stear," stir. " coulters, " ploughshares. 



Kinmont Willie 277 

35 
And when we cam' to the lower prison, 

Where Willie o' Kinmont he did lie, — 
"O sleep ye, wake ye, Kinmont Willie, 

Upon the morn that thou 's to die ? " 

36 

"01 sleep saft, and I wake aft ; 

It 's lang since sleeping was fleyM frae me ; 
Gie my service back to my wife and bairns, 

And a' gude fellows that spier for me." 

37 
Then Red Rowan has hente him up, 

The starkest man in Teviotdale, — 
"Abide, abide now, Red Rowan, 

Till of my Lord Scroope I take farewell. 

38 

" Farewell, farewell, my gude Lord Scroope ! 

My gude Lord Scroope, farewell ! " he cried ; 
" I '11 pay you for my lodging maill, 

When first we meet on the Border side." 

39 
Then shoulder high, with shout and cry, 

We bore him down the ladder lang ; 
At every stride Red Rowan made, 

I wot the Kinmont's aims played clang. 

40 
" O mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie, 

" I have ridden horse baith wild and wood ; 
But a rougher beast than Red Rowan 
I ween my legs have ne'er bestrode, 
"maill," rent. "aims," irons. 



278 The Ballad Book 

41 
" And mony a time," quo' Kinmont Willie, 

' ■ I 've pricked a horse out oure the furs ; 
But since the day I backed a steed, 

I never wore siccan heavy spurs." 

42 
We scarce had won the Staneshaw-bank, 

When a' the Carlisle bells were rung, 
And a thousand men on horse and foot 

Cam' wi' the keen Lord Scroope along. 

43 
Buccleuch has turned to Eden Water, 

Even where it flowed frae bank to brim, 
And he has plunged in wi' a' his band, 

And safely swam them through the stream. 

44 
He turned him on the other side, 

And at Lord Scroope his glove flung he : 
* ' If ye like na my visit in merry England, 

In fair Scotland come visit me ! " 

45 
All sore astonished stood Lord Scroope, 

He stood as still as rock of stane ; 
He scarcely dared to trew his eyes, 

When through the water they had gane. 

46 

" He is either himsell a devil frae hell, 
Or else his mother a witch maun be \ 

I wadna have ridden that wan water 
For a' the gowd in Christentie." 

" furs," furrows ? " trew," trust. 



Fine Flowers in the Valley 279 

LI 

FINE FLOWERS IN THE VALLEY 



SHE sat down below a thorn, 
Fine flowers in the valley ; 
And there she has her sweet babe born, 
And the green leaves they grow rarely, 

2 

" Smile na sae sweet, my bonny babe, 

Fine flowers in the valley ; 
An ye smile sae sweet, ye '11 smile me dead, 

And the green leaves t/iey grow rarely. 

3 

" She 's ta'en out her little penknife, 

Fine flowers in the valley ; 
And twinned the sweet babe o' its life, 

And the green leaves they grow rarely. 

4 
She 's howket a grave by the light o' the moon, 

Fine flowers in the valley ; 
And there she 's buried her sweet babe in, 

And the green leaves they grow rarely. 

5 
As she was going to the church, 

Fine flowers in the valley^ 
She saw a sweet babe in the porch, 

And the gree?t leaves they grow rarely. 



280 The Ballad Book 

6 

" O sweet babe, if thou wert mine, 

Fine flowers in the valley, 
I wad cleed thee in silk and sabelline," 

And the green leaves they grow rarely. 

7 
6 1 mother mine, when I was thine, 

Fine flozvei's in the valley, 
You did na prove to me sae kind," 

And the green leaves they grow rarely. 

8 
" But now I 'm in the heavens hie, 

Fine flowers in the valley ; 
And ye have the pains o' hell to dree, " - 

And the green leaves they grow rarely. 



LII 

ROBIN HOOD'S DEATH AND BURIAL 



WHEN Robin Hood and Little John, 
Down a dozvn, a down, a down, 
Went o'er yon bank of broom, 
Said Robin Hood to Little John, 
" We have shot for many a pound : 
Hey down, a down, a down. 

2 

* ' But I am not able to shoot one shot more, 

My arrows will not flee ; 
But I have a cousin lives down below, 

Please God, she will bleed me." 



Robijt Hood^s Death and Burial 281 

3 

Now Robin is to fair Kirkley gone, 

As fast as he can win ; 
But before he came there, as we do hear, 

He was taken very ill. 

4 
And when that he came to fair Kirkley-hall, 

He knocked all at the ring, 
But none was so ready as his cousin herself 

For to let bold Robin in. 

5 

" Will you please to sit down, cousin Robin," she said, 

"And drink some beer with me ? " 
" No, I will neither eat nor drink 

Till I am blooded by thee." 

6 
" Well, I have a room, cousin Robin," she said, 

" Which you did never see, 
And if you please to walk therein, 

You blooded by me shall be." 

7 
She took him by the lily-white hand, 

And led him to a private room, 
And there she blooded bold Robin Hood, 

Whilst one drop of blood would run. 

8 

She blooded him in the vein of the arm, 

And locked him up in the room ; 
There did he bleed all the livelong day, 

Until the next day at noon. 



282 The Ballad Book 

9 

He then bethought him of a casement door, 

Thinking for to be gone ; 
He was so weak he could not leap, 

Nor he could not get down. 

10 

He then bethought him of his bugle-horn, 
Which hung low down to his knee ; 

He set his horn unto his mouth, 
And blew out weak blasts three. 

II 

Then little John, when hearing him, 

As he sat under the tree, 
" I fear my master is near dead, 

He blows so wearily." 

12 

Then Little John to fair Kirkley is gone, 

As fast as he can dri'e ; 
But when he came to Kirkley -hall, 

He broke locks two or three : 

Until he came bold Robin to, 

Then he fell on his knee : 
"A boon, a boon/' cries Little John, 

"Master, I beg of thee. " 

14 

" What is that boon," quoth Robin Hood, 
" Little John, thou begs of me ? " 

"It is to burn fair Kirkley -hall, 
And all their nunnery." 

'* dri'e," drive. 



Robin Hood^s Death and Burial 283 

15 

"Now nay, now nay," quoth Robin Hood, 

" That boon I '11 not grant thee ; 
I never hurt woman in all my life, 

Nor man in woman's company. 

16 
6 i I never hurt fair maid in all my time, 

Nor at my end shall it be ; 
But give me my bent bow in my hand, 

And a broad arrow I '11 let flee ; 
And where this arrow is taken up, 

There shall my grave digg'd be. 

17 

" Lay me a green sod under my head, 

And another at my feet ; 
And lay my bent bow by my side, 

Which was my music sweet ; 
And make my grave of gravel and green, 

Which is most right and meet. 

18 

" Let me have length and breadth enough, 

With a green sod under my head ; 
That they may say, when I am dead, 

Here lies bold Robin Hood." 

19 

These words they readily promised him, 

Which did bold Robin please ; 
And there they buried bold Robin Hood, 

Near to the fair Kirkleys. 



284 The Ballad Book 



LIII 

YOUNG RED IN 



FAIR CATHERINE from her bower-window 
Looked over heath and wood ; 
She heard a smit o' bridle-reins, 
And the sound did her heart good. 

2 
" Welcome, young Redin, welcome ! 

And welcome again, my dear ! 
Light down, light down from your horse," she says, 

" It's long since you were here." 

3 
' c O good morrow, lady, good morrow, lady ; 

God make you safe and free ! 
I 'm come to take my last farewell, 

And pay my last visit to thee. 

4 
" I mustna light, and I canna light, 

I winna stay at a' ; 
For a fairer lady than ten of thee 

Is waiting at Castleswa'. " 

5 
" O if your love be changed, my dear, 

Since better may not be, 
Yet, ne'ertheless, for auld lang syne, 

Ye '11 stay this night wi' me." 



Young Redln 285 

6 
She birl'd him wi' the ale and wine, 

As they sat down to sup ; 
A living man he laid him down, 

But I wot he ne'er rose up. 

7 
"Now lie ye there, young Redin," she says, 

" O lie ye there till morn, — 
Though a fairer lady than ten of me 

Is waiting till you come home ! 

8 
" O lang, lang is the winter night, 

Till day begins to daw ; 
There is a dead man in my bower, 

And I would he were awa\ " 

9 

She cried upon her bower-maiden, 

Aye ready at her ca': 
" There is a knight into my bower, 

'T is time he were awa'." 

10 
They Ve booted him and spurred him, 

As he was wont to ride, 
A hunting-horn tied round his waist, 

A sharp sword by his side ; 
And they 've flung him into the wan water, 

The deepest pool in Clyde. 

11 

Then up bespake a little bird 

That sat upon a tree, 
" Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady, 

And pay your maid her fee." 



286 The Ballad Book 

12 

" Come down, come down, my pretty bird, 

That sits upon the tree ; 
I have a cage of beaten gold, 

I '11 gie it unto thee." 

13 

"Gae hame, gae hame, ye fause lady ; 

I winna come down to thee ; 
For as ye have done to young Redin, 

Ye 'd do the like to me." 

H 

O there came seeking young Redin 

Mony a lord and knight, 
And there came seeking young Redin 

Mony a lady bright. 

i5 

They've called on Lady Catherine, 
But she sware by oak and thorn 

That she saw him not, young Redin, 
Since yesterday at morn. 

16 

The lady turned her round about, 

Wi' mickle mournfu' din : 
" It fears me sair o' Clyde water 

That he is drowned therein." 

17 

Then up spake young Redin's mother, 
The while she made her mane : 

" My son kerm'd a' the fords o' Clyde, 
He'd ride them ane by ane." 



Young Redin 287 

18 
" Gar dive, gar dive ! " his father he cried, 

" Gar dive for gold and fee ! 
O wha will dive for young Redin's sake 

And wha will dive for me ? n 

19 
They dived in at ae pool-side, 

And out again at the other : 
" We '11 dive nae mair for young Redin, 

Although he were our brother/' 

20 
Then out it spake a little bird 

That flew above their head : 
" Dive on, dive on, ye divers all, 

For there he lies indeed. 

21 

"But leave off your day diving, 

And dive at dark of night ; 
In the pool where young Redin lies in 

The candles they '11 burn bright. " 



They left off their day diving, 
And dived at dark of night ; 

In the pool where young Redin lay 
The candles they burned bright. 

23 

The deepest pool in a' the stream 
They found young Redin in ; 

Wi' a great stone tied across the breast 
To keep his body down. 



288 The Ballad Book 

24 
Then up and spake the little bird, 

Says, " What needs a' this din? 
It was his light leman took his life, 

And hided him in the linn." 

25 
She sware her by the sun and moon, 

She sware by grass and corn, 
She hadna seen him, young Redin, 

Since Monanday at morn. 

26 
"It's surely been my bower- woman, — 

O ill may her betide ! 
I ne'er wad hae slain my young Redin, 

And thrown him in the Clyde." 

27 
Now they hae cut baith fern and thorn, 

The bower-woman to brin ; 
And they hae made a big balefire, 

And put this maiden in ; 
But the fire it took na on her cheek, 

It took na on her chin. 

28 
Out they hae ta'en the bower- woman, 

And put her mistress in ; 
The flame took fast upon her cheek, 

Took fast upon her chin, 
Took fast upon her fair body, 
Because of her deadly sin. 
"brin," burn. 



The Fray o' Sufiort 289 



LIV 

THE FRAY O' SUPORT 



SLEEP'RY Sim of the Lamb-hill, 
And snoring Jock of Suport-mill, 
Ye are baith right het and fou' ; 
But my wae wakens na you. 
Last night I saw a sorry sight, — ■ 

Nought left me o' four-and-twenty gude ousen and ky, 
My weel-ridden gelding, and a white quey, 
But a toom byre and a wide, 
And the twelve nogs on ilka side. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' gane. 

2 
Weel may ye ken, 

Last night I was right scarce o' men : 
But Toppet Hob o' the Mains had guesten'd in my 

house by chance ; 
I set him to wear the fore-door wi' the speir, while I 

kept the back-door wi' the lance ; 
But they hae run him thro' the thick o' the thie, and 

broke his knee-pan, 
And the mergh o' his shin-bane has run down on his 

spur-leather whang : 
He 's lame while he lives, and where'er he may gang, 
Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 
My gear 's a' gane. 

"het and fou'," hot and full. " ousen and ky," oxen and cows. 

"quey," young cow. "toom," empty. "nogs," stakes. 

"wear," guard (?) "mergh," marrow. 

*9 



290 The Ballad Book 

3 

But Peenye, my gude son, is out at the Hagbuthead, 

His een glittering for anger like a fiery gleed ; 

Crying, " Mak' sure the nooks 

Of Maky's-muir crooks ; 

For the wily Scot takes by nooks, crooks, and hooks. 

Gin we meet a' together in a head the morn, 

We '11 be merry men." 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' gane. 

4 
There 's doughty Cuddy in the Heugh-head, 
Thou was aye gude at a need ; 
With thy brock-skin bag at thy belt, 
Aye ready to mak' a puir man help. 
Thou maun awa' out to the Cauf-craigs 
(Where anes ye lost your ain twa naigs), 
And there toom thy brock-skin bag. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' ta'en. 

5 
Doughty Dan o' the Houlet Hirst, 
Thou was aye gude at a birst ; 
Gude wi' a bow, and better wi' a speir, 
The bauldest March-man that e'er followed gear : 
Come thou here. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear's a' gane. 

6 
Rise, ye carle coopers, frae making o* kirns and tubs, 
In the Nicol forest woods. 

"gleed," glowing coal. "birst," burst, battle, fight. 

" kirn," churn. 



The Fi'ay <?' Sttport 291 

Your craft hasna left the value of an oak rod. 
But if you had ony fear o' God, 
Last night ye hadna slept sae sound, 
And let my gear be a' ta'en. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' ta'en. 

7 
Ah ! lads, we '11 fang them a' in a net, 
For I hae a' the fords o' Liddel set ; 
The Dunkin and the Door-loup, 
The Willie-ford and the Water-slack, 
The Black-rack and the Trout-dub of Liddel. 
There stands John Forster, wi' five men at his back, 
Wi J bufft coat and cap of steil. 
Boo ! ca' at them e'en, Jock ; 
That ford 's sicker, I wat weil. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' ta'en. 



Hoo ! hoo ! gar raise the Reid S outer, and Ringan's 

Wat. 
Wi J a broad elshin and a wicker 
I wat weil they '11 mak' a ford sicker. 
Sae, whether they be Elliots or Armstrangs, 
Or rough-riding Scots, or rude Johnstones, 
Or whether they be frae the Tarras or Ewsdale, 
They maun turn and fight, or try the deeps o' Liddel. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' ta'en. 

"fang," catch. " sicker," sure. "souter," shoemaker, 

"elshin," awl. " wicker," switch. [They'll make a ford sure, 
if they have but a broad awl and a switch for weapons.] 



292 The Ballad Book 

9 

" Ah ! but they will play ye anither jigg, 

For they will out at the big rig, 

And thro' at Fargy Grame's gap." 

But I hae anither wile for that : 

For I hae little Will, and Stalwart Wat, 

Arid lang Aicky, in the Souter Moor, 

Wi' his sleuth-dog sits in his watch right sure. 

Gin the dog gie a bark, 

He '11 be out in his sark, 

And die or win. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' ta'en. 

io 

Ha ! boys ! — I see a party appearing — wha 's yon ? 
Methinks it's the Captain of Bewcastle, and Jephtha's 

John, 
Coming down by the foul steps of Catlowdie's loan : 
They '11 make a' sicker, come which way they will. 

Ha, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a', 

My gear 's a' ta'en. 

II 

Captain Musgrave, and a' his band, 
Are coming down by the Siller-strand, 
And the Muckle toun-bell o' Carlisle is rung : 
My gear was a' weel won, 

And before it 's carried o'er the Border, mony a man 's 
gae down. 

Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a\ 
My gear 's a' gane. 

"rig," ridge. 



The Ship o' the Fiend 293 

LV 
THE SHIP 0' THE FIEXD 

1 

" 'f\ WHERE hae ye been, my Lang-lost lover, 
V_y This lang seven years and mair ? " 

" I 'm come again to seek your love 
And the vows that ye did swear. " 

2 
"Now haud your tongue o' my love and vows, 

For they can breed but strife ; 
Now haud your tongue o' my former vows, 

For I am anither man's wife. " 

3 

He turned him right and round about, 

And the tear blinded his e'e : 
"I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground, 

If it had not been for thee. 

4 

" I might hae had a noble lady, 

Far beyond the sea ; 
I might hae had a noble lady, 

Were it no for the love o' thee/' 

5 

" If ye might hae had a noble lady, 

Yourser ye hae to blame ; 
Ye might hae taken the noble lady, 

For ye kenn'd that I was nane. " 



294 The Ballad Book 

6 

" O fause are the vows o' womankind, 
But fair is their fause bodie ; 

I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground, 
Were it no for the love o' thee ! 

7 
" For I despised the pearls and rings, 

And the fair ladye also ; 
And I am come back to my ain true love, 

But with me she'll not go." 



" My husband he is a carpenter, 
And earns glide bread wi' his hand ; 

And I hae borne him a little son ; 
Wi' you I winna gang." 

9 

' ' Ye may leave your husband to himsel', 

And your little son also ; 
And sail wi' me across the sea : 

Sae fair the wind doth blow." 

io 

" O what hae you to keep me wi', 

If I wi' you should go, — 
If I should forsake my good husband, 

My little young son also ? " 

II 

" See ye not yon seven pretty ships, — 
The eighth brought me to land, — 

With merchandise and mariners, 
And music on every hand ? 



The Ship o' the Fiend 295 

12 

" There 's mantles warm to wrap my love, 

O' the silk and soft velvet, 
And rich attires to deck her head, 

And costly shoon for her feet." 

13 

She turned her round upon the shore, 

Her love's ships to behold ; 
Their mainyards and their topmasts high 

Were covered o'er wi' gold. 

H 
And she has gone to her little young son, 

Kissed him baith cheek and chin : 
' ' O fare ye weel, my little son ! 

For I '11 never see you again. " 

15 

She has drawn the slippers on her feet, 

Weel wrought wi' threads o' gold, 
And he 's wrapt her round wi' the soft velvet 

To haud her frae the cold. 

16 
" O how do you like the ship ? " he said, 

" Or how do you like the sea ? 
And how do you like the bold mariners, 

That wait upon thee and me ? " 

17 

" O weel I like the ship," she said, 

" And weel I like the sea ; 
But where are a' your mariners ? 

I see nane but thee and me." 



296 The Ballad Book 

18 

She hadna sailed a league frae land, 

A league but barely three, 
Till she minded on her dear husband, 

And her little young son tee. 

19 

" O gin I were on shore again, 

On shore where I wad be, 
Nae living man should flatter me 

To sail upon the sea ! " 

20 
" O haud your tongue o' weeping," says he, 

1 1 Let a' your mourning be ; 
I '11 show ye how the lilies grow 

On the banks o' Italic " 

21 

" O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, 
That the sun shines sweetly on ? " 

" O yon are the hills o' Heaven/' he said, 
" Where you will never win." 

22 
" O whatna mountain is yon," she said, 

" Sae dreary wi' frost and snow?" 
" O yon is the mountain o' Hell," he cried, 

" Where you and I maun go ! " 

23 
And aye when she turned her round about, 

Aye taller he seemed for to be ; 
Until that the tops o' that gallant ship 
Nae taller were than he. 

" tee," too. " maun," must 



Lamkin 297 

24 
He strack the mainmast wi' his hand, 

The foremast wi' his knee ; 
The gallant ship was broken in twain 

And sank into the sea. 



LVI 

LAMKIN 



LAMKIN was as good a mason 
As ever hewed a stane ; 
He biggit Lord Weare's great castle, 
But payment gat he nane. 

2 
" O pay me now, Lord Weare, 

Come pay me out o' hand." 
* ' I canna pay you, Lamkin, 

Unless I sell my land." 

3 

" O gin ye winna pay me, 

I here sail make a vow, 
Before that ye come hame again, 

Ye sail hae cause to rue." 

4 

The lord said to his lady, 

As he mounted his horse, 
"Beware, beware of Lamkin, 

That lieth in the moss." 



298 The Ballad Book 

5 
The lord said to his lady, 

As he rode away, 
" Beware, beware of Lamkin, 

Thatliethin the clay." 

6 

" What care I for Lamkin, 

Or any of his gang ? 
I'll keep my doors weel guarded, 

My windows all penned in." 

7 
When all the doors were guarded, 

And all the windows shut, 
There was still one little window, 

And that one was forgot. 



And the nourice was a fause limmer 

As e'er hung on a tree ; 
And she laid a plot wi' Lamkin 

When her lord went over the sea. 

9 

She laid a plot wi' Lamkin, 
When the servants were awa', 

Loot him in at the little window 
And brought him to the ha\ 

10 

" O where 's a' the men o' this house, 

That ca' me Lamkin ? " 
" They're at the barn thrashing ; 

'Twill be lang ere they come in." 
"nourice," nurse. 



Larrikin 299 



" O where 's the women o' this house, 

That ca' me Lamkin ? " 
" They 're at the well washing ; 

'T will be lang ere they come in. " 

12 

" O where 's the lady o' this house, 

That ca's me Lamkin ? " 
" She 's up in her bower sewing, 

But we soon can bring her down. " 

13 

"And how are we to bring her down ? " 

Says the Lamkin. 
" Pinch the babe in the cradle here," 

Says the fause nourice to him. 

" O still my bairn, nourice, 

Still him if you can." 
" He will not still, madam, 

For a' his father's land." 

15 

"O still my bairn, good, nourice, 

O still him wi' the keys." 
' ' He will not still, my lady, 

Let me do what I please. " 

16 
" O still my bairn, kind nourice, 

O still him wi J the ring." 
'* He will not still, dear mistress, 

Let me do anything." 



300 The Ballad Book 

17 

" O still my bairn, sweet nourice, 

still him wi' the bell." 

" He will not still, my lady dear, 
Till ye come down yoursel'." 

18 
The first step the lady stepped, 

She stepped on a stane ; 
The last step the lady stepped, 

There she met Lamkin. 

19 

" O mercy, mercy, Lamkin ! 

Have mercy upon me ! 
O harm ye not my little son, 

1 pray you let him be ! " 

20 

" Now sail I kill her, nourice ? 

Or sail I let her be ? " 
" O kill her, kill her, Lamkin, 

For she ne'er was good to me. " 

21 

"Then scour the basin, nourice, 
And mak' it fair and clean, 

For to keep this lady's heart's blood, 
For she comes o' noble kin." 

22 
" There needs nae basin, Lamkin ; 

Let it ran upon the floor ; 
What better is the heart's blood 

O' the rich than o' the poor ? " 



Lamkin 301 

23 
Lord Weare he sat in England 

A-drinking o' the wine ; 
He felt his heart fu' heavy 

At this very same time. 

24 
"I wish a' may be weel," he says, 

" Wi* my dear lady at hame ; 
For the rings upon my fingers 

They 've bursten into twain." 

25 
He sailed in his bonny ship 

Upon the saut sea-faem ; 
He leaped upon his horse, 

And swiftly he rade hame. 

26 
" O wha's blude is this," he says, 

" That lieth in my ha'?" 
" It is your little son's heart's blude, 

The clearest ava\" 

27 
" O wha's blude is this," he says, 

" That lies in the bower ? " 
" It is your lady's heart's blude, 

Where Lamkin he slew her." 

28 
O sweetly sang the blackbird, 

That sat upon the tree ; 
But sair moaned Lamkin, 

When he was judged to dee. 



302 The Ballad Book 

29 
O bonny sang the mavis 

Out o' the thorny brake ; 
But sair grat the nourice, 

When she was tied to the stake. 



THE FROLICKSOME DUKE; OR, THE 
TINKER'S GOOD FORTUNE 



NOW, as fame does report, a young Duke keeps a 
court, 
One that pleases his fancy with frolicksome sport : 
But amongst all the rest, here is one, I protest, 
Which will make you to smile when you hear the true 

jest : 
A poor tinker he found, lying drunk on the ground, 
As secure in sleep as if laid in a swound. 

2 
The Duke said to his men, " William, Richard, and 

Ben, 
Take him home to my palace ; we '11 sport with him 

then." 
O'er a horse he was laid, and with care soon conveyed 
To the palace, altho 1 he was poorly arrai'd : 
Then they stript off his cloaths, both his shirt, shoes, 

and hose, 
And they put him to bed for to take his repose. 

"grat," wept. 



The Frolicksome Duke 303 

3 

Having pulled off his shirt, which was all over dirt, 
They did give him clean holland, this was no great hurt : 
On a bed of soft down, like a lord of renown, 
They did lay him to sleep the drink out of his crown. 
In the morning, when day, then admiring he lay, 
For to see the rich chamber, both gaudy and gay. 

4 
Now he lay something late, in his rich bed of state, 
Till at last knights and squires they on him did wait ; 
And the chamberlain bare then did likewise declare, 
He desired to know what apparel he 'd wear : 
The poor tinker, amazed, on the gentleman gazed, 
And admired how he to this honor was raised. 

5 
Tho' he seemed something mute, yet he chose a rich suit, 
Which he straitways put on without longer dispute, 
With a star on his side, which the tinker oft eyed, 
And it seemed for to swell him no little with pride ; 
For he said to himself, " Where is Joan my sweet 

wife? 
Sure she never did see me so fine in her life. " 

6 

From a convenient place, the right Duke, his good 

grace, 
Did observe his behavior in every case. 
To a garden of state, on the tinker they wait, 
Trumpets sounding before him : thought he, this is 

great : 
Where an hour or two, pleasant walks he did view, 
With commanders and squires in scarlet and blue. 



304 The Ballad Book 

7 
A fine dinner was drest, both for him and his guests : 
He was placed at the table above all the rest, 
In a rich chair [or bed,] lined with fine crimson red, 
With a rich golden canopy over his head : 
As he sat at his meat, the musick played sweet, 
With the choicest of singing his joys to compleat. 

8 
While the tinker did dine, he had plenty of wine, 
Rich Canary, with sherry and tent superfine. 
Like a right honest soul, faith, he took off his bowl, 
Till at last he began for to tumble and roul 
From his chair to the floor, where he sleeping did 

snore, 
Being seven times drunker than ever before. 

9 
Then the Duke did ordain, they should strip him 

amain, 
And restore him his old leather garments again. 
'T was a point next the worst, yet perform it they must, 
And they carry'd him strait where they found him at 

first. 
Then he slept all the night, as indeed well he might ; 
But when he did waken, his joys took their flight 

io 

For his glory [to him] so pleasant did seem, 

That he thought it to be but a meer golden dream ; 

Till at length he was brought to the Duke, where he 

sought 
For a pardon, as fearing he had set him at nought. 
But his highness he said, " Thou 'rt a jolly bold blade : 
Such a frolick before, I think, never was plaid." 



Childe Vyet ; or, The Brothers 305 

11 

Then his highness bespoke him a new suit and cloak, 
Which he gave for the sake of this frolicksome joke, 
Nay, and five hundred pound, with ten acres of ground : 
"Thou shalt never," said he, "range the counteries 

round, 
Crying old brass to mend, for I '11 be thy good friend, 
Nay, and Joan thy sweet wife shall my duchess attend. " 

12 

Then the tinker reply'd : ' i What ! must Joan my sweet 

bride 
Be a lady in chariots of pleasure to ride ? 
Must we have gold and land ev'ry day at command ? 
Then I shall be a squire, I well understand. 
Well I thank your good grace, and your love I embrace ; 
I was never before in so happy a case ! " 



LVIII 

CHILDE VYET; OR, THE BROTHERS 



LORD INGRAM and Childe Vyet 
Were both born in one hall ; 
And both laid their loves on one lady, — 
The worse did them befall. 

2 
Lord Ingram woo'd Lady Maisry 

From father and from mother ; 
Lord Ingram woo'd Lady Maisry 

From sister and from brother. 



306 The Ballad Book 

3 

Lord Ingram woo'd Lady Maisry 

With leave of all her kin : 
But Childe Vyet woo'd herself alone, 

And she loved none but him. 

4 
Now Lady Maisry she sat in her bower 

Dressing her hair one day ; 
And in there came her proud father, 

In robes and rich array. 

5 
" Get up now, Lady Maisry, 

Put on your wedding-gown ; 
For this is the* day, and Lord Ingram's here, 

And your wedding must be done ! " 

6 

" O where shall I get a bonny boy 

Will win gold to his fee, — 
Will run unto Childe Vyet's ha' 

With this letter from me ? 

7 
" I 'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife, 

The white fish for to sell, 
Before I 'd be Lord Ingram's wife, 

To wear the silks so well. 



" I 'd rather be Childe Vyet's wife, 
With him to beg my bread, 

Before I 'd be Lord Ingram's wife, 
To wear the gold so red. " 



Childe Vyet ; or, The Brothers 307 



" O here I am, the boy," says one, 

" Will win gold to his fee, 
And carry any letter away 

To Childe Vyet from thee." 

10 

The first line that Childe Vyet read, 

The tear blinded his e'e ; 
The next line that he looked on, 

An angry man was he. 

II 

' ' What ails my own brother, " he says, 

1 i That he '11 not let my Love be ? 
But I '11 come in haste to my brother's wedding, 

My lady she shall be free ! " 

12 

But when he came to his brother's wedding, 

Childe Vyet could ne'er get in ; 
For every gate was guarded weel, 

And his way he might not win. 

13 

'Tween Mary Kirk and the Castle 

'T was all spread o'er with garl, 
To keep the lady and her maidens 

From treading upon the marl. 

H 
From Mary Kirk to the Castle 
Was spread a cloth of gold, 
To keep that lady and her maidens 
From setting foot on the mould, 
"garl," gravel (?) 



308 The Ballad Book 

15 

There was no cook in the kitchen 
That got not a gown of gray ; 

And a' was blithe and gladsome ; 
But Lady Maisry was wae. 

16 

There was not a groom in the stable 
That got not a coat of green ; 

And a' was blithe and gladsome ; — 
Lady Maisry, she was wi' wean. 

17 

When mass was sung, and bells were rung, 

And all men bound for bed, 
Lord Ingram and Lady Maisry 

In one bed they were laid. 

18 

When they were laid upon their bed, 

It was baith soft and warm, 
He laid his hand over her side : 

Says he, " You are with bairn." 

19 

" I told you once, so did I twice, 

When ye came as my wooer, 
That Childe Vyet, your one brother, 

One night lay in my bower. 

20 

* ' I told you twice, so did I thrice, 

Ere ye came me to wed, 
That Childe Vyet, your one brother, 

One night lay in my bed. " 



Childe Vyet ; or^ The Brothers 309 

21 

"Then father your bairn on me, Maisry, 

And on no other man ; 
And I '11 gie him to his dowry 
Full fifty ploughs o' land." 

22 

" I will not father my bairn on you, 

Xor yet on no wrong man, 
Though ye gave him to his dowry 

Five thousand ploughs o ? land. " 

23 

From the curtain leaped out Childe Vyet, 

Shed by his yellow hair, 
And he gave Lord Ingram to the death 

A deep wound and a sair. 

24 
Then up did start Lord Ingram, 

Shed by his coal-black hair, 
And gave Childe Vyet to the death 

A deep wound and a sair. 

25 
There was pity enough for those two lords, 

When they were lying dead ; 
There w T as more for young Lady Maisry, 

In that chamber when she went mad. 




310 The Ballad Book 

LIX 

THE BARON OF BRACKLEY 



I 

| OWN Dee-side came Inverey whistling and play- 
ing; 
He 's lighted at Brackley yates at the day dawing. 



D< 



2 

Says, " Baron o' Brackley, O are ye within? 
There 's sharp swords at the yate will gar your blood 
spin. " 

3 

The lady rase up, to the window she went ; 
She heard her kye lowing o'er hill and o'er bent. 

4 
" O rise up, ye baron, and turn back your kye*; 
For the lads o' Drumwharran are driving them bye." 

5 
" How can I rise, lady, or turn them again? 
Whare'er I have ae man, I wat they hae ten." 

6 
"Then rise up, my lasses, tak' rocks in your hand, 
And turn back the kye ; — I hae you at command. 

7 
" Gin I had a husband, as I hae nane, 
He wadna lye in his bed, see his kye ta'en." 

"kye," cows, 
"rock," rod that holds the tow on a spinning-wheel. 



The Baron of Brackley 311 



Then up got the baron, and cried for his graith ; 
Says, " Lady, I'll gang, tho' to leave you I 'm laith. 

9 

" Come, kiss me, then, Peggy, and gie me my speir ; 
I aye was for peace, tho' I never feared weir. 

10 

" Come, kiss me, then, Peggy, nor think I 'm to blame ; 
I weel may gae out, but I '11 never win in ! " 

n 

When Brackley was busked, and rade o'er the closs, 
A gallanter baron ne'er lap to a horse. 

12 

When Brackley was mounted, and rade o'er the green, 
He was as bauld a baron as ever was seen. 

13 

Tho' there cam' wi' Inverey thirty and three, 
There was nane wi' bonny Brackley but his brother 
and he. 

Twa gallanter Gordons did never sword draw ; 
But against four and thirty, wae 's me, what is twa ? 

15 

Wi' swords and wi' daggers they did him surround ; 
And they 've pierced bonny Brackley wi' many a 
wound. 

"graith," armor. "weir," war. " closs," close. 



312 The Ballad Book 

16 

Frae the head o' the Dee to the banks o' the Spey, 
The Gordons may mourn him, and ban Inverey. 

17 
" O came ye by Brackley yates, was ye in there? 
Or saw ye his Peggy dear riving her hair ? " 

18 

"Ol came by Brackley yates, I was in there, 
And I saw his Peggy a-making good cheer/' 

19 

That lady she feasted them, carried them ben ; 
She laughed wi' the men that her baron had slain. 

20 
' ' O fye on you, lady ! how could you do sae ? 
You opened your yates to the fause Inverey." 

21 

She ate wi' him, drank wi' him, welcomed him in ; 
She welcomed the villain that slew her baron ! 

22 
There 's grief in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha' ; 
But the Baron o' Brackley is dead and awa'. 

"ban," curse. " ben," within. 




Burd Ellen 313 



LX 

BURD ELLEN 



LORD JOHN stood in his stable door, 
Said he was boim' to ride ; 
Burd Ellen stood in her bower door, 
Said she'd rin by his side. 

2 
He 's pitten on his riding-boots, 

And fast awa' rade he ; 
Burd Ellen 's cut her yellow locks 

An inch above her e'e, 
She 's clad hersell in a page's dress, 

And after him ran she, 

3 

Until they came to a wan water, 

And folk do call it Clyde ; 
Then he lookit o'er his left shoulder, 

To see if she wad bide. 

4 
The firstan step the lady stept, 

The water cam' till her knee : 
" Ochon, alas ! " said the lady, 

" This water 9 s o'er deep for me." 

5 

The neistan step the lady stept, 
The water cam' till her middle ; 

And sigh in' said that fair lady, 
" I 've wat my gouden girdle." 



3 H The Ballad Book 

6 

The thirden step the lady stept, 
The water cam' to her pap ; 

And the bairn that was in her twa sides 
For cauld began to quake, 

7 
' ' Lie still, my babe ! lie still, my babe ! 

Ye work your mother wae ; 
Your father rides on high horseback, 

Cares little for us twae." 

8 
Near the midst o' Clyde water 

There was a yeard-fast stone ; 
He lightly turned his horse about, 

And took the lady on ; 
He brought her to the other side, 

And there he set her down. 

9 

" O tell me this now, good Lord John, 

And a word ye winna lie, 
How far is it to your lodgin', 

Whar' we this night maun be?" 

io 

" See ye na yon castle, Ellen, 
That shines sae bright and hie ? 

There 's a lady in it, Ellen, 
Will sunder you and me. " 

II 

" I wish nae ill to your lady, 
She ne'er comes in my thought ; 

But I wish that woman maist o' your love, 
That dearest has you bought ! " 
"yeard-fast," earth-fast. 



Bitrd Ellen 315 

12 

O four and twenty gay ladies 

Welcomed Lord John to the ha' ; 

But a fairer lady than ony there 
Led his horse to the stable-sta'. 

13 

O four and twenty gay ladies 

Went wi' Lord John to the green ; 

But a fairer lady than ony there 
At the manger stood alane. 

14 

When bells were rung, and mass was sung, 

And a' men boun' to meat, 
Burd Ellen was at the bye-table 

Amang the pages set. 

15 

" O eat and drink, my bonny boy, 

The white bread and the beer." 
" The never a bit can I eat or drink, 

My heart 's sae fu' o' fear. " 

16 

" O eat and drink, my bonny boy, 
The white bread and the wine." 

" O how sail I eat or drink, master, 
Wi' heart sae fu' o' pine ? n 

17 

But out and spak' Lord John's mother, 

And a wise woman was she : 
" Whar' met ye wi' that bonny boy 

That looks sae sad on thee ? 



316 The Ballad Book 

18 

" Sometimes his color waxes red, 

Sometimes it waxes wan ; 
He 's liker a woman big wi' bairn 

Than a young lord's serving-man. " 

19 

" O it makes me laugh, my mother dear, 
Sic words to hear frae thee ; 

He is a squire's ae dearest son, 
That for love has followed me. 



" Rise up, rise up, my bonny boy, 

Gie my horse corn and hay. " 
" O that I will, my master dear, 

As quickly as I may." 

21 

She 's ta'en the hay under her arm, 

The corn intill her hand, 
And she 's gane to the great stable 

As fast as e'er she can. 

22 
" O room ye round, my bonny steeds ! 

O room ye near the wa' ! 
For this pain that strikes me through my sides 

Fu' soon will gar me fa'. " 

23 

She leaned her back against the wa', 

Strong travail cam' her on ; 
And e'en amang the great horse's feet 

Burd Ellen brought forth her son. 



Burd Ellen 317 

24 
" O open the door, Burd Ellen ! 

O open and let me in ; 
I want to see if my steed be fed, 
And my greyhounds fit to rin." 

25 
" How could I open, how shall I open, 

How can I open to thee, 
When lying amang your great steed's feet, 

And your young son on my knee ? " 

26 
He strack the door hard wi' his foot, 

Sae has he wi' his knee ; 
Iron hinges and wooden bars 

Into the floor flang he. 
" Be not afeard, Burd Ellen ! " he says ; 

"There's nane comes in but me." 

27 
"An asking, an asking, sweet Lord John, 

An asking I beg of thee, — 
The meanest woman about your place, 

To tend my young son and me. " 

28 
" Tak' up, tak' up my bonny young son ! 

Gar wash him wi' the milk ; 
Tak' up, tak' up my fair lady ! 

Gar row her in the silk. 

29 
"Be of good cheer, Burd Ellen ! " he says, 

" O be of good cheer, I pray ; 
Your bridal and your churching both 

Shall be upon one day. " 

' ' gar, " make. - ' row, " roll. 



318 The Ballad Book 

LXI 

THE LAMENT OF THE BORDER WIDOW 

i 

MY love he built me a bonny bower, 
And clad it a' wi' lily flower ; 
A brawer bower ye ne'er did see 
Than my true love he built for me. 

2 
There came a man, by middle day, 
He spied his sport, and went away ; 
And brought the King that very night, 
Who brake my bower and slew my knight. 

3 

He slew my knight, to me sae dear ; 
He x slew my knight, and poined his gear ; 
My servants all for life did flee, 
And left me in extremetie. 

4 
I sewed his sheet, making my mane ; 
I watched the corpse, myself alane ; 
I watched his body night and day ; 
No living creature came that way. 

5 
I took his body on my back, 
And whiles I gaed, and whiles I sat ; 
I digged a grave, and laid him in, 
And happ'd him wi' the sod sae green, 
"poined," seized. 



Willy's Lady 319 

6 

But think na ye my heart was sair, 

When I laid the mom" on his yellow hair ? 

think na ye my heart was wae, 
When I turned about, awa' to gae ? 

7 

Nae living man I '11 love again, 
Since that my lovely knight is slain ; 
Wi' ae lock of his yellow hair 

1 '11 chain my heart for evermair. 



LXII 

WILLY'S LADY 

1 

SW T EET Willy's ta'en him o'er the faem, 
He 's wooed a wife and brought her hame ; 
He 's wooed her for her yellow hair. 
But his mither wrought her mickle care, 
And mickle dolour gart her dree ; 
For lighter can she never be, 
But in her bower she sits wi' pain, 
And Willy mourns for her in vain. 

2 
Now to his mither he is gane, 
That vile rank witch, who lives her 'lane ; 
He says, ' ; My lady has a cup, 
O' siller wrought, wi' gouden lip ; 
This gudely gift ye now sail aim, 
And let her be lighter o' her young bairn. " 

1 faem," foam. " gart her dree," caused her to surfer. 

"her 'lane," alone. "aim," earn. 



320 The Ballad Book 

3 
" O' her young bairn she 's never be lighter, 
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter ; 
But she sail die and turn to clay, 
And ye sail wed anither may." 
" Anither may I '11 marry nane, 
Anither may I '11 ne'er bring hame. " 
But, sighing, said his bonny young wife, 
" Alas, I 'm weary o' my life ! " 

4 
He did him to his mither again, 
That vile rank witch, who lives her 'lane ; 
And says, " My lady has a girdle, 
It 's a' pure goud around the middle, 
And set wi' fifty pearls and ten, 
And fifty diamonds round the hem ; 
This gudely gift ye now sail aim, 
And let her be lighter o' her young bairn. " 

5 
" O' her young bairn she 's never be lighter, 
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter ; 
But she sail die and go to clay, 
And you sail wed anither may. " 
" Anither may I '11 marry nane, 
Anither may I '11 ne'er bring hame." 
But, sighing, said his bonny young wife, 
" Alas, I 'm weary o' my life ! " 

6 

He did him to his mither again, 
That vile rank witch, who lives her 'lane ; 
He says, " My lady has a steed, 
The like o' him no in the lands o' Leed ; 
" may," maid. " Leed," Liddesdale (?) 



Willy's Lady 321 

At ilka tett o' that horse's mane 
There 's a gowden chess and bell ringin' ; 
The steed and bells ye now sail aim, 
Let her be lighter o' her young bairn. " 

7 
" She's never o' her bairn be lighter, 
Nor in her bower to shine the brighter ; 
Die she must, and go to clay, 
And you sail wed anither may. " 
* ' Anither may I '11 marry nane, 
Anither may I '11 never bring hame." 
But, moaning, said his bonny young wife, 
" Alas, I 'm weary o* my life ! " 

8 
Then out it spak', the Billy Blind, 
He spak' aye in a gude time ; 
" Ye '11 do ye to the market-place, 
And there ye '11 buy a loaf o' wace. 
Ye '11 shape it bairn and bairnly like, 
And in it twa glassen een ye '11 pit. 

9 
" And do ye to your mither then, 
And bid her come to the christenin', 
For dear 's the boy he 's been to you ; 
Then notice weel what she sail do ; 
And do you stand a little away, 
And listen weel what she will say." 

10 

He did him to the market-place, 
And there he bought a loaf o' wace ; 

"tett," tassel. "chess" (qu. "jess")? 

"Billy Blind," a sort of Brownie, Lar, or House-Spirit, 
"wace," wax. "een," eyes. "pit," put. 

21 



322 The Ballad Book 

He shaped it bairn and bairnly like, 
And in it twa glassen een he pat. 
He did him to his mither then, 
And bade her to his boy's christenm* ; 
And then he stood a little away, 
And noticed weel what she would say. 

ii 

* ' O, wha has loosed the nine witch-knots 
That were amang that lady's locks ? 
And wha 's ta'en out the kaims o' care 
That were into that lady's hair ? 
And wha has killed the master-kid * 
That ran aneath that lady's bed ? 
And wha has untied her left-foot shee, 
And letten that lady lighter be ? " 

12 

O, Willy has loosed the nine witch-knots 
That lay amang his lady's locks ; 
Willy 's ta'en out the kaims o' care 
Were set into his lady's hair ; 
And Willy 's killed the master- kid 
That ran aneath his lady's bed ; 
And Willy 's untied her left foot shee, 
And letten his lady lighter be ; 
And now he has gotten: a bonny son, 
And mickle grace be him upon. 

" pat," put. " kaims," combs. " shee," shoe. 

* One of the witch's familiars, we may imagine, taking the 
shape of a pet kid. 




Hughie Graham 323 



LXIII 

HUGHIE GRAHAM 



OUR lords are to the mountains gane, 
A-huntirig o' the fallow deer, 
And they hae grippet Hughie Graham, 
For stealing o' the Bishop's mare. 

2 
And they hae tied him hand and foot, 

And led him up thro' Carlisle town ; 
The lads and lasses met him there, 

Cried " Hughie Graham, thou art a loun." 

3 
" O, loose my right hand free," he says, 

" And put my braid sword in the same, 
He 's no in Carlisle town this day, 

Daur tell the tale to Hughie Graham/' 

4 

Up then bespake the brave Whitefoord, 
As he sat by the Bishop's knee, 

" Five hundred white stots I '11 gie you, 
If ye '11 let Hughie Graham gae free." 

5 
" O, haud your tongue," the Bishop says, 

" And wi' your pleading let me be ; 
For tho' ten Grahams were in his coat, 
Hughie Graham this day shall dee." 
"stots," oxen. 



324 The Ballad Book 

6 

Up then bespake the fair Whitefoord, 
As she sat by the Bishop's knee, 

* * Five hundred white pence I '11 gie you, 
If ye '11 gie Hughie Graham to me." 

7 
' ' O, haud your tongue now, lady fair, 

And wi' your pleading let it be ; 
Altho' ten Grahams were in his coat, 

It 's for my honor he maun dee. " 



They Ve ta'en him to the gallows knowe, 
He looked to the gallows tree, 

Yet never color left his cheek, 
Nor ever did he blin' his e'e. 

9 

At length he looked round about, 

To see whatever he could spy, 
And there he saw his auld father, 

And he was weeping bitterly. 

10 

" O, haud your tongue, my father dear, 
And wi' your weeping let it be ; 

The weeping 's sairer on my heart, 
Than a' that they can do to me. 

II 

" And ye may gie my brother John 

My sword that 's bent in the middle clear, 

And let him come at twelve o'clock, 
And see me pay the Bishop's mare. 

"knowe," little hill. 



Lord Thomas and Fair Annet 325 

12 

" And ye may gie my brother James 

My sword that 's bent in the middle brown, 

And bid him come at four o'clock, 
And see his brother Hugh cut down. 

13 

"And ye may tell my kith and kin 

I never did disgrace their blood ; 
And when they meet the Bishop's cloak, 

To mak' it shorter by the hood. " 



LXIV 

LORD THOMAS AND FALR ANNET 

1 

LORD THOMAS and fair Annet 
Sat all day on a hill ; 
When night was come and the sun was set, 
They had not talked their fill. 

2 
Lord Thomas said a word in haste, 

Fair Annet took it ill : 
" I winna wed a tocherless maid 

Against my parents' will." 

3 

O, Annet 's gane off intill her bower ; 

Lord Thomas rode swiftly doun ; 
And now he has come to his mither's ha' 

By the lee light o' the moon. 

' tocherless," without a fortune. "lee light," calm light. 



326 The Ballad Book 

4 
" O, sleep ye, wake ye, mither ? " he says, 

" O, are ye therewithin ? " 
" I sleep right aft, I wake right aft ; 

What want ye wi' me, son ? 

5 
" Where hae ye been this night, Thomas ? 

Where hae ye tarried sae lang ? " 
" O, I hae been courtin' fair Annet, 

But I think she used me wrang. 

6 
" Now rede me, rede me, mither," he says, 

8 ' A gude rede gie to me : 
O, sail I tak' the nut-brown girl, 

And let fair Annet be ? " 

7 
"It's an ye wed the nut-brown girl, 

I '11 heap the gold wi' my hand ; 
But an ye wed her, fair Annet, 

I '11 straike it wi' a wand. 

8 
8 ' The nut-brown girl has houses and lands, 

Fair Annet has nane," she said ; 
" And I charge you, for my benison, 

The nut-brown girl to wed." 

9 
" But alas ! alas ! " Lord Thomas, he says, 

" O, fair is Annet's face ! " 
* ' What matter for that, Lord Thomas, my son ? 

She has nae ither grace." 

"rede me," advise me. " straike it wi' a wand," give bare 

measure, as if in measuring a gallon of oats you were to stroke 
off the top grains with a stick. 



Lo?'d Thomas and Fair Aiinet 327 

10 
" Alas ! alas ! " Lord Thomas, he says, 

"But fair is Annet's hand ! " 
" What matter for that, Lord Thomas, my son? 

She hasna ae rood o' land. " 

II 

" Sheep will die in cots, mither, 

And owsen die in byre ; 
And what 's the land or gold to me, 

If I lose my heart's desire ? " 

12 

Then he has till his sister gane : 

' ' Xow, sister, rede ye me ; 
O, sail I marry the nut-brown girl, 

And set fair Annet free ? " 

13 

" I 'se rede ye tak' fair Annet, Thomas, 
She '11 bring neither dool nor shame ; 

But the crabbit brown girl wad gar ye cry, 
O, what is this we brought name ! " 

14 
"No, I will tak' my mither's counsel, 

And marry me out o' hand ; 
And I will tak' the nut-brown girl, 

With her houses and her land." 

15 
His sister has found a bonnie boy, 
Wad fain win hose and shoon ; 
One that will rin to fair Annet's bower, 
By the lee light o' the moon. 

" dool," grief. " gar," make. 



328 The Ballad Book 

16 

The boy he is come to Annet's bower, 

And tirled at the pin, 
And wha sae ready as Annet hersel' 

To open and let him in. 

17 

"Ye are bidden come to Lord Thomas's weddhV, 

At twal o' the clock at noon ; 
Ye are bidden come to Lord Thomas's wedding 

And ye cannot come ower soon. 

18 

' ' Ye mauna put on the black, the black, 

Nor yet the dowie brown, 
But the silken blue, and your kerch sae white, 

And your bonnie locks hangin' down." 

19 

"It's I will come to Lord Thomas's weddin', 

At twal o' the clock at noon ; 
It 's I will come to Lord Thomas's weddin', — 

I thought it would be my own. 

20 
" My maids, come to my dressing-room, 

And dress to me my hair ; 
Whare'er ye laid a plait before 

See ye lay ten times mair. 

21 

" Lay out my smock o' needlework 

Wrought on the holland fine ; 
Lay out my skirts, and silken suits, 

And choose the best o' nine. " 
" dowie," mournful. " kerch," kerchief. 



Lord Thomas and Fair Annet 329 

22 
At each tate o' Armet's horse's mane 

There hung a silver bell ; 
When there came a tift o' the southern wind, 

They all began to knell. 

23 
She passed through the crowd in Mary's kirk, 

She sat upon the dais ; 
The light that came frae the fair Annet 

Enlightened a' that place. 

24 

She sat close by the nut-brown bride ; 

And her e'en they shone so clear, 
That Lord Thomas he forgot the bride, 

Since ever his love drew near. 

25 
O wha is this, my father dear, 
That blinks in Lord Thomas's e'e ? " 
' ' O this is Lord Thomas's first true love, 
Before he loved thee." 

26 
Lord Thomas held a rose in his hand, 

And he gave it kisses three, 
He reached it past the nut-brown bride, 

Laid it on Annet' s knee. 

27 
The bride she drew a long bodkin 

Out o' her gay head-gear, 
And struck fair Annet to the heart, 
That word she never spak' mair. 

" tate," tassel. " dais," platform. 



33° The Ballad Book 

28 
" O Christ thee save ! " Lord Thomas he said, 

" Methinks thou look'st wondrous wan ; 
Thou used'st to look with as fresh a color 

As ever the sun shone on. " 

29 
He saw fair Annet wax pale and faint, 

And wondered what might be ; 
But when he saw her dear heart's blood 

A' wood-wroth waxed he. 

30 
He drew his dagger frae his side, 

His dagger sae sharp and meet, 
And drave it into the nut-brown bride, 

That fell dead at his feet. 

31 

" Now stay for me, dear Annet," he said, 

" O stay, my dear ! " he cried ; 
Then struck the dagger intill his heart, 

And fell dead by her side. 



LXV 

LIZIE LINDSAY 

1 
" "\ "\ 7TLL ye go to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay, 

V V Will ye go to the Hielands wi' me? 
Will ye go to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay, 
And dine on fresh curds and green whey ? " 
"wood- wroth," mad-angry. 



Lizie Lindsay 331 



Then out spak' Lizie's mother, 

A good old lady was she : 
* ' Gin ye say sic a word to my daughter, 

I '11 gar ye be hanged hie ! " 

3 

" Keep weel your daughter for me, madam ; 

Keep weel your daughter for me. 
I care as little for your daughter 

As ye can care for me ! " 

4 
Then out spak' Lizie's ain maiden, 
A bonnie young lassie was she ; 
"Now gin I were heir to a kingdom, 
Awa' wi' young Donald I 'd be." 

5 
* ' O say you sae to me, Nelly ? 

And does my Nelly say sae ? 
Maun I leave my father and mither, 

Awa' wi' young Donald to gae ? " 

6 

And Lizie's ta'en till her her stockings, 
And Lizie's ta'en till her her shoon, 

And kilted up her green claithing, 

And awa' wi' young Donald she 's gane. 

7 
The road it was lang and weaiy ; 

The braes they were ill to climb ; 
Bonnie Lizie was weary wi' travelling, 
A fit further couldna she win. 
" fit,*' foot. 



332 The Ballad Book 



" O are we near hame, dear Donald? 

O are we near hame, I pray?" 
" We're no near hame, bonnie Lizie, 

Nor yet the half o' the way." 

9 

Sair, O sair was she sighing, 

And the saut tear blin'd her e'e : 
' ' Gin this be the pleasures o' loving, 

They never will do wi' me I " 

10 

' ' Now haud your tongue, bonnie Lizie ; 

Ye never shall rue for me ; 
Gie me but your love for my love, 

It is a' that your tocher will be. 

II 

"O haud your tongue, bonnie Lizie, 
Although that the gait seem lang ; 

And you 's hae the wale o' good living 
When to Kincaussie we gang. 

12 

" My father he is an auld shepherd, 

My mother she is an auld dey ; 
And we '11 sleep on a bed o' green rashes, 

And dine on fresh curds and green whey. " 

13 

They cam' to a homely poor cottage ; 

The auld woman 'gan to say : 
" O ye 're welcome hame, Sir Donald, 
Ye've been sae lang away." 
'gait," road. "wale," choice, best. "dey," dairy-woman. 



Lizie Lindsay 333 

"Ye mustna call me Sir Donald, 
But call me young Donald your son ; 

For I hae a bonnie young lady 
Behind me, that 's coming in. 

" Come in, come in, bonnie Lizie, 

Come in, come in," said he ; 
"Although that our cottage be little, 

I hope we '11 the better agree. 

16 
" O make us a supper, dear mither, 

And make it o' curds and green whey ; 
And make us a bed o' green rashes, 

And cover it o'er wi'* fresh hay. " 

17 

She's made them a bed o' green rashes, 
And covered it o'er wi' fresh hay. 

Bonny Lizie was weary wi 1 travelling, 
And lay till 'twas lang o' the day. 

18 
" The sun looks in o'er the hill-head, 

The laverock is lilting gay ; 
Get up, get up, bonnie Lizie, 

Ye *ve lain till it 's lang o' the day. . 

19 
" Ye might hae been out at the shealin', 

Instead o' sae lang to lie ; 
And up and helping my mither 

To milk her gaits and her kye." 

'laverock," lark. " shealin'," shed. " gaits and kye," goats 
and cows. 



334 The Ballad Book 

20 

Then sadly spak' Lizie Lindsay, 
She spak' it wi' mony a sigh : 

"The ladies o' Edinbro' city 
They milk neither gaits nor kye. " 

21 
" Rise up, rise up, bonnie Lizie, 

Rise up and mak' yoursel' fine ; 
For we maun be at Kincaussie, 

Before that the clock strikes nine." 

22 
But when they cam' to Kincaussie, 

The porter doth loudly say, 
" O ye 're welcome hame, Sir Donald ; 

Ye 've been sae lang away ! " 

23 
It 's doun then cam' his auld mither, 

Wi' all the keys in her hand j 
Saying, "Take you these, bonnie Lizie, 

For all is at your command." 



SWEET WILLIAM'S GHOST 

1 

THERE came a ghost to Marj one's door, 
Wi' many a grievous groan, 
And aye he tirled at the pin, 
But answer made she none. 



Szveet William f s Ghost 335 

2 
" O say, is that my father? 

Or is 't my brother John ? 
Or is it my true love Willy, 

From Scotland new come home?" 



"*Tis not thy father, Marjorie, 

Nor yet thy brother John ; 
But 't is thy true love Willy, 

From Scotland new come home. 

4 
" O Marjorie sweet ! O Marjorie dear ! 

For faith and charitie, 
Will ye gie me back my faith and troth 

That I gave once to thee ? " 

5 
1 ' Thy faith and troth thou gavest to me, 

And again thou 'It never win, 
Until thou come within my bower 

And kiss me cheek and chin." 

6 
"My lips they are sae bitter," he says, 

My breath it is sae Strang, 
If ye get ae kiss from me to-night, 

Your days will not be lang. 

7 
"The cocks are crawing, Marjorie, — 

The cocks are crawing again ; 
The dead wi J the quick they mustna stay, 

And I must needs begone." 



336 The Ballad Book 



She followed him high, she followed him low, 
Till she came to yon churchyard green ; 

And there the deep grave opened up, 
And young William he lay down. 

9 
" What three things are these, sweet William, 

That stand beside your head ? " 
"O it's three maidens, Marjorie, 

That once I promised to wed." 

10 

" What three things are these, sweet William, 

That stand close at your side ? " 
" O it 's three babes," he says, " Marjorie, 

That these three maidens had." 

II 

4 'What three things are these, sweet William, 

That lie close at your feet ? " 
" O it's three hell-hounds, Marjorie, 

That's waiting my soul to keep." 

12 

And she took up her white, white hand, 

And struck him on the breast ; 
Saying, " Have here again thy faith and troth, 

And I wish your soul good rest." 




Lady Elspat 337 



LXVII 

LADY ELSPAT 



" T) RENT 'S your brow, my Lady Elspat ; 

JD Gouden yellow is your hair ! 
O' a' the maids o' fair Scotland, 

There 's no anither half sae fair. " 

2 
" O keep your vows, sweet William," she says, 

* ' The vows which ye ha' made to me ; 
And at the back o' my mither's castell, 

This night I '11 surely meet wi* thee." 

3 

But wae be to her brother's page, 

That heard the words thir twa did say ; 

He 's tauld them to her lady mither, 

Wha wrought sweet William mickle wae. 

4 
For she 's ta'en him, sweet William, 

And she's gar'd bind him wi' his bow-string, 
Till the red bluid o' his fair bodie 

Frae ilka nail o' his hand did spring. 

5 

She kept him in a tower o' strength, 

Till the Lord-justice came to town ; 
Out has she ta'en him, sweet William, 

Brought him before the Lord-justice boun\ 
" brent," straight. 
22 



338 The Ballad Book 

6 

" And what is the crime, now, lady," he says, 
" That has by this young man been dane ? " 

" O he has broken my bonny castell, 
That was weel biggit wi' lime and stane. 

7, 
"And he has broken my bonny coffers, 

That was weel bandit wi' aiken ban' ; 
And he has stown my rich jewels ; 

I wot he has stown them every ane. " 

8 
Then out it spak her Lady Elspat, 

As she sat by Lord-justice's knee ; 
" Now ye hae tauld your tale, mither, 

I pray, Lord -justice, ye '11 now hear me. 

9 

"He hasna broken her bonny castell, 
That was weel biggit wi' lime and stane ; 

Nor has he stown her rich jewels, 
For I wat she has them every ane. 

io 
" But though he was my first true love, 

And though I had sworn to be his bride, 
Because he hadna a great estate, 

She would this way our loves divide. " 

II 

Syne out and spak the Lord-justice, 

I wat the tear was in his e'e ; 
" I see nae faut in this young man ; 

Sae loose his bands, and set him free, 
"aiken," oaken. 



Willie and May Margaret 339 

12 

" And tak your love, now, Lady Elspat, 
And my best blessin' you baith upon , 

For gin he be your first true love, 
He is my eldest sister's son. 

13 

"There stands a steed in my stable, 
Cost me baith gold and white monie : 

Ye's get as mickle.o' my free land 

As he '11 ride about in a summer's day. " 



LXVIII 

WILLIE AND MAY MARGARET, OR THE 
WATER OF CLYDE 



WILLIE stands in his stable, 
A-clapping of his steed ; 
And over his white fingers 
His nose began to bleed. 

2 
" Gie corn to my horse, mither ; 

Gie meat unto my man ; 
For I maun gang to Margaret's bower, 

Before the night comes on. " 

3 

c ' O stay at home, my son Willie ! 
The wind blaws cold and stour ; 

The night will be baith mirk and late, 
Before ye reach her bower." 
"stour," strong. " mirk, " dark. 



340 The Ballad Book 

4 
" O tho' the night were ever sae dark, 

O the wind blew never sae cauld, 
I will be in May Margaret's bower 

Before twa hours be tauld. " 

5 
"O bide this night wi' me, Willie, 

bide this night wi' me ! 
The bestan fowl in a' the roost 

At your supper, my son, shall be." 

6 

" A' your fowls, and a' your roosts, 

1 value not a pin ; 

I only care for May Margaret, 

And ere night to her bower I '11 win." 

7 
" O an ye gang to May Margaret 

Sae sair against my will, 
In the deepest pot o' Clyde's water 

My malison ye 's feel ! " 



He mounted on his coal-black steed, 

And fast he rade awa' ; 
But ere he came to Clyde's water 

Fu' loud the wind did blaw. 

9 

As he rade over yon hie hie hill, 

And doun yon dowie den, 
There was a roar in Clyde's water 

Wad feared a hundred men. 
"malison," curse. "dowie den," doleful hollow. 



Willie and May Margaj'et 341 

10 
But Willie has swam through Clyde's water, 

Though it was wide and deep ; 
And he came to May Margaret's door 

When a' were fast asleep. 



he 's gane round and round about, 

And tirled at the pin, 
But doors were steeked and windows barred, 

And nane to let him in. 

12 

4 1 open the door to me, Margaret ! 

open and let me in ! 

For my boots are fit' o' Clyde's water, 

1 'm shivering to the chin. n 

13 

' ' I daurna open the door to you, 

I daurna let you in ; 
For my mither she is fast asleep, 

And I maun mak' nae din. " 

* ' O gin ye winna open the door, 

Nor be sae kind to me, 
Now tell me o' some out-chamber, 

Where I this night may be." 

15 

" Ye canna win in this night, Willie, 

Nor here ye canna be ; 
For I 've nae chambers out nor in, 

Nae chamber but barely three, 
"steeked," fastened. 



342 ■ The Ballad Book 

16 
"The tane is fu' to the roof wi' corn, 

The tither is fu' wi' hay ; 
The third is fu' o' merry young men, 

They winna remove till day. " 

17 

" O fare ye weel, then, May Margaret, 

Sin' better it mauna be. 
I have won my mither's malison 

Coming this night to thee.' 7 

18 
He 's mounted on his coal-black steed, 

O but his heart was wae ! 
But e'er he came to Clyde's water, 

'T was halfway up the brae. 

19 

When down he rade to the river-flood, 
'T was fast flowing ower the brim ; 

The rushing that was in Clyde's water 
Took Willie's rod frae him. 

20 

He leaned him ower his saddle-bow 

To catch his rod again ; 
The rushing that was in Clyde's water 

Took Willie's hat frae him. 

21 

He leaned him ower his saddle-bow 
To catch his hat by force ; 

The rushing that was in Clyde's water 
Took Willie frae his horse. 



Willie ajtd May Margaret 343 

22 
ct O I canna turn to my horse's head ; 

I canna strive to sowm ; 
I 've gotten my mither's malison, 

And it 's here that I maun drown ! " 

23 
The very hour this young man sank 

Into the pot sae deep, 
Up wakened his love, May Margaret, 

Out of her heavy sleep. 

24 
" Come hither, come hither, my minnie dear, 

Come hither, read my dream ; 
I dreamed my love Willie was at our gates, 

And nane would let him in." 

25 
" Lie still, lie still, dear Margaret, 

Lie still and tak' your rest ; 
Your lover Willie was at the gates, 

'Tis but two quarters past." 

26 

Nimbly, nimbly rase she up, 

And quickly put she on ; 
While ever against her window 

The louder blew the -win'. 

27 
Out she ran into the night, 

And down the dowie den ; 
The strength that was in Clyde water 
Wad drown five hundred men. 
'sowm," swim. "pot," deep pool, "minnie," mother. 



344 The Ballad Book 

28 
She stepped in to her ankle, 

She stepped free and bold ; 
" Ohone, alas ! " said that lady, 

"This water is wondrous cold." 

29 

The second step that she waded, 

She waded to the knee ; 
Says she, " I 'd fain wade farther in, 

If I my love could see. " 

30 

The neistan step that she waded, 

She waded to the chin ; 
*T was a whirlin' pot o' Clyde's water 

She got sweet Willie in. 

31 

" O ye Ve had a cruel mither, Willie ! 

And I have had anither ; 
But we shall sleep in Clyde's water 

Like sister and like brither." 

32 
When the water o' Clyde left roaring 

And the sun shone warm and fair, 
They found these twa in each ither's arms, 

Like lovers true as they were. 




The Duke of Gordon's Daughter 345 



THE DUKE OF GORDON'S DAUGHTER 



THE Duke of Gordon's three daughters, 
Elizabeth, Marg'ret, and Jean, 
They left bonny Castle Gordon, 
And lived in Aberdeen. 

2 
They had not lived in Aberdeen 

A month but only two, 
Captain Ogilvie courted Lady Jean, 

And she loved him fond and true. 

3 

Word came to the Duke of Gordon, 

In the chamber where he lay, 
Lady Jean was in love with a captain, 

And from him she would not stay. 

4 
"Go saddle to me the black horse, 

My servant on the gray, 
I must mount and gallop to Aberdeen 

And bring Lady Jean away." 

5 

They were not a mile outside the town, 

A mile but barely ane, 
When he met his daughters walking, 

And looked hard for Lady Jean. 



346 The Ballad Book 

6 
Then up came Lady Elizabeth fine, 

And Lady Margaret fair ; 
But Lady Jean was the flower o' the three, 

And he could not see her there. 

7 
' ' O where is your sister, maidens ? 

O where is your sister now ? 
Come, tell me where is your sister 

That she is not walking with you ? " 



" O pardon, pardon, father ! 

O give us no fault, we pray ! 
Lady Jean is Captain Ogilvie's wife, 

And with him she will gae. " 

9 

Fast he spurred and galloped, 
Till he came to iVberdeen ; 

And he saw brave Captain Ogilvie 
Training his men on the green. 



" Woe be to you, Captain Ogilvie ! 

And an ill death shalt thou dee. 
For wiling away my daughter, 

High hanged thou shalt be. " 

11 

The duke has wrote a broad letter, 
Sent to the king's own hand, 

For to hang brave Captain Ogilvie, 
If ever he hanged a man. 



The Duke of Gordons Daughter 347 

12 

"I will not hang Captain Ogilvie, 

Whatever the duke may say, 
But I '11 cause him to put the gold lace off, 

For a common soldier's array." 

13 

Now word came to Captain Ogilvie, 

In the chamber where he lay, 
To cast off the gold lace and scarlet, 

And put on a soldier's array. 

" If this be for bonny Jean Gordon, 

This penance I can take wi' ; 
If this be for dear Jeanie Gordon, 

All this and more I '11 dree. " 

15 

Lady Jean had not been married 

A year but only three, 
Till she had a babe on every arm, 

And another upon her knee. 

16 
" O but I 'm weary wandering ! 

O but my fortune's bad ! 
It sets not a Duke's own daughter 

To follow a soldier lad. 

17 

" O but I 'm weary wandering ! 

O but I think it lang ! 
It sets not a Duke's own daughter 

To follow a simple man." 
"dree," endure. 



348 The Ballad Book 

18 

" Now hold thy tongue, bonny Jeanie ! 

O hold thy tongue, my lamb ! 
I once was a noble captain, — 

For your sake a simple man." 

19 
And when they came to the Highland hills, 

Cold was the frost and snow ; 
Lady Jean's shoes were torn to bits, 

And no farther could she go. 

20 
' ' O were I in the glens o* Foudlen, 

Where hunting I have been, 
I would go to fair Castle Gordon, 

Without either stockings or sheen ! 

21 

When they came to fair Castle Gordon, 

And crossing over the green, 
The porter gave out with a loud, loud shout, 

" Yonder *s our Lady Jean ! " 

22 
" O welcome bonny Jean Gordon, 

You are dearly welcome to me ! 
O welcome, dear Jeanie Gordon, 

But away with your Ogilvie ! " 

23 
Over-seas went the Captain, 

As a soldier under command ; 
But a messenger soon followed after, 
Bade him home to heir his land, 
"sheen," shoes. 



The Duke of Gordon's Daughter 349 

24 
t ' Your uncle is dead and buried ; 

He has left all his land to thee. " 
"Sail home, sail home ! " says brave Ogilvie, 

" For now my dear Jeanie I '11 see." 

25 
He came to fair Castle Gordon, 

Outside the gate stood he ; 
The porter gave out with a loud, loud shout, 

" O here 's Captain Ogilvie ! " 

26 
"You are welcome, sweet Captain Ogilvie ! " 

Your fortune 's advanced I hear ; 
No guest could come to this castle 

More welcome than you, or more dear. " 

27 
"The last time I came to your castle, 

You kept me outside your door ; 
I am come for my wife and children, 

And I ask you for nothing more/' 

28 
Down the stair she came laughing, 

And the tears upon her face ; 
With two little children, one on each side, 

Another in her embrace. 

29 
"O welcome, my bonnie Jeanie, 

And dearly welcome to me ! 
Now come away home with our children, 

Parted never to be ! " 



350 The Ballad Book 

LXX 

FAIR MARGARETS MISFORTUNES 



:< T AM no love for you, Margaret, 
J- You are no love for me. 
Before to-morrow at eight of the clock, 
A rich wedding you shall see. " 

2 
Fair Margaret sat in her bower-window 

Combing her yellow hair ; 
There she espied sweet William and his bride, 

As they were a-riding near. 

3 
Down she laid her ivory comb, 

And up she bound her hair ; 
She went away out of her bower, 

But never returned there. 

4 
When day was gone and night was come, 

And all men fast asleep, 
There came the spirit of fair Marg'ret, 

And stood at William's feet. 

5 
" Are you awake, sweet William ? " she said, 

" Or, William, are you asleep? 
God give you joy of your gay bride-bed, 

And me of my winding-sheet." 



Fair Margaret' *s Misfortunes 351 

6 
When day was come and night was gone, 

And all men waked from sleep, 

.-: William to his lady said, 
' ; Alas ! I have cause to weep. 

7 
1 ' I dreamt a dream, my dear ladye, — 

Such dreams are never good, — 
I dreamt my bower was full of red swine, 

And the walls ran down with blood." 



He called up his mem-men all, 

By one, by two, and by three ; 
Saying, <; I '11 away to fair Margaret's bower, 

By the leave of my ladye." 

9 
And when he came to fair Margaret's bower, 

He knocked at the ring ; 
And who so ready as her seven brethren, 

To let sweet William in. 

10 
He turned down the covering-sheet, 

To see the face of the dead. 
" Methinks she looks all pale and wan ; 

She hath lost her cherry red. 

11 
; ' I would do more for thee, Margaret, 

Than would any of thy kin : 
And I will kiss thy pale cold lips, 

Though a smile I cannot win. " 



352 The Ballad Book 



With that bespake the seven brethren, 

Making most piteous moan, 
" You may go and kiss your jolly brown bride, 

And let our sister alone ! " 

13 

" If I do kiss my jolly brown bride, 

I do but what is right ; 
I ne'er made a vow to yonder poor corpse, 

By day, nor yet by night. 

14 

"Deal on, deal on, ye merrymen all, 
Deal on your cake and your wine ; 

Whatever is dealt at her funeral to-day, 
Shall be dealt to-morrow at mine ! " 

15 

Fair Margaret died as it might be to-day, 
Sweet William he died the morrow, 

Fair Margaret died for pure true love, 
Sweet William he died for sorrow. 

16 
Margaret was buried in the lower chancel, 

And William in the higher ; 
Out of her breast there sprang a rose-tree, 

And out of his a brier. 

17 

They grew till they grew unto the church-top, 
And then they could grow no higher ; 

And there they tied a true-lover's knot, 
Which made all people admire. 



Lord Ronald 353 

18 
At last the clerk of the parish came, 

As the truth doth well appear, 
And by misfortune he cut them down, 

Or else they had now been here. 



LXXI 

LORD RONALD 



" C\ WHERE hae y e been > Lord Ronald > m y son ? 

V_y O where hae ye been, my handsome young 
man?" 
"I hae been to the wood; mother, make my bed 

soon, 
For I 'm weary wi' hunting, and fain would lie down." 

2 
" Where gat ye your dinner, Lord Ronald, my son? 
Where gat ye your dinner, my handsome young man ? " 
" I dined wi' my love ; mother, make my bed soon, 
For I 'm weary wi' hunting, and fain would lie down." 

3 

" What gat ye to dinner, Lord Ronald, my son ? 
What gat ye to dinner, my handsome young man ? " 
" I gat eels boiled in broo ; mother, make my bed 

soon, 
For I 'm weary wi' hunting, and fain would lie down. " 

4 
" And where are your bloodhounds, Lord Ronald, my 

son? 
And where are your bloodhounds, my handsome young 
man ? " 
23 



354 The Ballad Book 

" O they swelled and they died ; mother, make my bed 

soon, 
For I 'm weary wi' hunting, and fain would lie down." 

5 

"OI fear ye are poisoned, Lord Ronald, my son ! 
O I fear ye are poisoned, my handsome young man ! " 
" O yes, I am poisoned ! mother, make my bed soon, 
For I 'm sick at the heart, and I fain would lie down. " 



YOUNG JOHN AND HIS TRUE 
SWEETHEART 



A FAIR maid sat at her bower-door, 
Wringing her lily hands ; 
And by it came a sprightly youth 
Fast tripping o'er the strands. 

2 
" Where gang ye, young John," she says, 

" Sae early in the day ? 
It gars me think, by your fast trip, 

Your journey *s far away. " 

3 

He turned about wi' an angry look, 
And said, " What's that to thee ? 

I *m gaen' to see a lovely may 
That fairer far than ye." 

" gars," makes. 



Young Jo/m and his True Sweetheart 355 

4 
" Now hae you played me this, fause love, 

In simmer, mid the flowers ? 
I sail repay ye back again 

In winter, 'mid the showers. 

5 
4 ' But again, dear love, and again, dear love, 

Will ye not turn again ? 
For as ye look to ither women 

Sail I to ither men." 

6 

" O make your choice o' whom you please, 

For I my choice will have ; 
I 've chosen a fairer may than thee, 

I never will deceive." 

7 
She 's kilted up her claithing fine, 

And after him gaed she ; 
But aye he said, " Turn back, turn back, 

Nae further gang wi' me ! " 



"But again, dear love, and again, dear love, 

Will ye never love me again ? 
Alas ! for loving you sae weel, 

And you nae me again ! " 

9 

The firstan town that they cam' till, 
He bought her brooch and ring ; 

But aye he bade her turn again, 
And nae farther gang wi' him. 



356 The Ballad Book 

10 

" But again, dear love, and again, dear love, 

Will ye never love me again ? 
Alas ! for loving you sae weel, 

And you na me again ! " 

II 

The second town that they cam' till, 

His heart it grew mair fain ; 
And he was as deep in love wi* her 

As she wi' him again. 

12 

The neistan town that they cam' till, 
He bought her wedding-gown ; 

And made her lady o' ha's and bowers, 
In bonny Berwick town. 



LXXIII 

HELEN OF KIRKCONNELL 



I WISH I were where Helen lies ; 
Night and day on me she cries ; 
O that I were where Helen lies, 
On fair Kirkconnell lea ! 

2 
Curst be the heart that thought the thought, 
And curst the hand that fired the shot, 
When in my arms burd Helen dropt, 
And died to succor me ! 
'neistan," next. "burd" (bird), damsel, young lady. 



Helen of Kirkconnell 357 

3 

think na ye my heart was sair 

When my love dropt, and spak' nae mair ! 
There did she swoon wi' meikle care, 
On fair Kirkconnell lea. 

4 
And I went down the water side, 
None but my foe to be my guide, 
None but my foe to be my guide, 
On fair Kirkconnell lea. 

5 

1 crossed the stream, my sword did draw, 
I hacked him into pieces sma', 

I hacked him into pieces sma', 
For her sake that died for me. 

6 

Helen fair, beyond compare ! 

1 '11 mak ? a garland o' your hair, 
Shall bind my heart for evermair, 

Until the day I dee ! 

7 

O that I were where Helen lies ! 
Night and day on me she cries ; 
Out of my bed she bids me rise, 
Says, " Haste, and come to me ! 

8 

O Helen fair ! O Helen chaste ! 
Were I with thee I would be blest, 
Where thou liest low and tak'st thy rest, 
On fair Kirkconnell lea. 



358 The Ballad Book 

9 

I wish my grave were growing green, 
A winding-sheet drawn o'er my e'en, 
And I in Helen's arms lying, 
On fair Kirkconnell lea. 

10 

I wish I were where Helen lies ! 
Night and day on me she cries, 
And I am weaiy of the skies, 
For her sake that died for me. 



LXXIV 

GLASGERION 

i 

GLASGERION was a harper gude, 
He harpit to the King ; 
Glasgerion was the best harper 
That ever harped on string. 

2 

He 'd harp a fish from the river, 

Or water out o' a stane ; 
He harpit the heart frae a maiden's breast, 

To love but him alane. 

3 
He 's ta'en his harp intil his hand ; 

He harpit and he sang ; 
And aye he harpit to the King, 

Wha never thought it lang. 



Glasgerion 359 

4 
" I '11 gie you a robe, Glasgerion, 

A robe of the royal pa', 
Gin ye will harp i' the winter's night 

Afore my nobles a'." 

5 
The King but and his nobles a' 

Sat birling at the wine ; 
And he wad hae nane but his ae daughter 

To wait on them at dine. 

6 

Glasgerion 's ta'en his harp in hand, 

Till he 's harpit them a' asleep ; 
A' except the young Princess, 

Whom love did waking keep. 

7 
And first he has harpit a grave tune, 

And syne he has harpit a gay ; 
And mony 's the sigh and the loving word 

That passed atween them twae. 



" Come to my bower, Glasgerion, 

When all men are at rest ; 
As I am a lady true of word 

Thou shalt be a welcome guest. " 

9 

Home then came Glasgerion ; 

A glad man, lord ! was he : 
"And come thou hither, Jack, my boy, 

Come hither unto me." 
e pa'," pall, rich cloth. "birling," drinking festively. 



360 The Ballad Book 

10 

"For the King's daughter," Glasgerion said, 

" Hath granted me my boon : 
And at her bower-door I must be, 

By the setting of the moon." 

11 

" Lie down in your bed, dear master, 

And sleep as sound as you may ; 
I '11 keep gude watch, and I '11 waken you 

Afore it be time to gae. " 

12 

But up he rose, that lither lad, 

His master's clothes did on ; 
A collar he cast upon his neck, 

He seemed a gentleman. 

13 

And when he came to the lady's bower 

He tirlit at the pin : 
The lady she was true of her word, 

She rose and let him in. 

He did not kiss that lady's mouth, 

Nor when he came nor yode ; 
And sore that lady did mistrust 

He was but of churl's blood. 

Home then came that lither lad, 

Did off baith cloak and shoon, 
And cast the collar from off his neck : 

He was but a churl's son. 

"lither," lazy, dissolute, deceitful (slippery?). "tirlit at the 

pin," lightly rattled the latch. "yode," went. 



Glasgerion 361 

16 

" Won up, won up, good master ! 

For I fear it is day-dawn, 
And there 's nae a cock in a' the land 

But has wappit its wings and crawn." 

17 

Then quickly rose Glasgerion, 

Did on his hosen and shoon, 
And cast a collar about his neck ; 

For he was a lord's own son. 

18 
And when he came to the lady's bower, 

He tirlit at the pin : 
The lady was more than true of her word, 

She rose and let him in. 

19 

* ' O whether now have you left with me 

Your bracelet or your glove ? 
Or are you returned back again 

To know more of my love ? " 

20 
Glasgerion swore a full great oath, 

By oak and ash and thorn, 
" I was never before in your chamber, lady, 

Sith the day that I was born." 

21 

" O then it was your lither foot-page ; 

He hath beguiled me " : 
Then she pulled forth a little sharp knife 

That hang down by her knee. 

"wappit," flapped. "crawn," crowed. 



362 The Ballad Book 

22 
O'er her white feet the red blood ran 

Or ever a hand could stay ; 
And dead she lieth on her bower-floor, 

At the dawning o' the day. 

23 
Home then he runs, Glasgerion, 

And woe, good lord ! was he : 
Says, "Come thou hither, Jack my boy, 

Come hither unto me." 

24 
"If I had taken a life to-night, 

Jack, I would tell it to thee ; 
But if I have taken no life to-night, 

Jack, thou hast taken three. " 

25 
And he pulled out his bright brown sword, 

And dried it on his sleeve, 
And there smote off that lither lad's head 

Who did his lady grieve. 

26 

He set the sword's point to his breast, 

The pummil to a stone : 
Through the falseness of that lither lad, 

These three lives were all gone. 




The Gardener 363 

LXXV 

THE GARDENER 



THE gard'ner stands in his bower door, 
Wi' a primrose in his hand, 
And by there cam' a maiden, 
As jimp as a willow wand. 

2 
"O lady, can ye fancy me, 

For to be my bride ? 
Ye 'se get a' the flowers in my garden, 

To be to you a weed. 

3 

" The lily white sail be your smock ; 

It becomes your bodie best ; 
Your head sail be buskt wi' gilly-flower, 

Wi' the primrose in your breast. 

4 
' ' Your goun sail be the sweet-william ; 

Your coat the camovine ; 
Your apron o' the sallads neat, 

That taste baith sweet and fine. 

5 
" Your hose sail be the brade kail-blade, 

That is baith brade and lang ; 
Narrow, narrow, at the cute, 

And brade, brade at the brawn. 

'jimp," slender. "weed," dress. "camovine," camomile. 
" cute," ankle. "brawn," calf. 



364 The Ballad Book 

6 
" Your gloves sail be the marigold, 

All glittering to your hand, 
Weel spread owre wi* the blue blaewort, 

That grows amang corn-land." 

7 

" O fare ye weil, young man," she says, 
" Fare weil, and I bid adieu ; 

If you can fancy me," she says, 
" I cannot fancy you. 



" Sin ye Ve provided a weed for me 

Among the simmer flowers, 
It 's I 'se provide anither for you, 

Amang the winter-showers : 

9 

' ' The new fawn snaw to be your smock ; 

It becomes your bodie best ; 
Your head sail be wrapt wi' the eastern wind, 

And the cauld rain on your breast. " 



LXXVI 

TAMLANE 

1 

OI forbid ye, maidens a', 
Who are sae sweet and fair, 
To come or gae by Carterliangh, 
For young Tamlane is there. 



Tamlane 365 



Fair Janet sat within her bower, 

Sewing her silken seam, 
And wished to be in Carterhaugh, 

Amang the leaves sae green. 

3 

She let the seam fa' to her foot, 

The needle to her tae, 
And she 's awa' to Carterhaugh, 

As quickly as she may. 

4 
She hadna' pu'd a wild-flower, 

A flower but barely three, 
When up he started, young Tamlane, 

Says " Lady, let a-be ! 

5 
" What gars ye pu' the flowers, Janet? 

What gars ye break the tree ? 
Or why come ye to Carterhaugh, 

Without the leave o' me ? " 

6 

"OI will pu' the flowers," she says, 

" And I will break the tree, 
And I will come to Carterhaugh, 

And ask nae leave o' thee." 

7 
But when she came to her father's ha', 

She looked sae wan and pale 
They thought the lady had gotten a fright 
Or with sickness sair did ail. 
"tae," toe. 



366 The Ballad Book 



She dinna comb her yellow hair 

Or mak' mickle o' her head ; 
And ilka thing that lady took 

Was like to bring her deid. 

9 

It's four-and-twenty ladies 

Were playing at the ba' ; 
Janet, that wightest wont to be, 

Was faintest o' them a'. 

10 

Out and spak' an auld gray knight, 

Lay o'er the castle wa', — 
" Ever alas for thee, Janet ! 

And we '11 be blamed a'. " 

II 

" Now haud your tongue ! " fair Janet she says, 

" Or an ill deid may you dee ! 
Father my bairn on whom I will, 

It bringeth nae blame to thee. 

12 

" O gin my Love were an earthly knight, 

As he is an elfin gay, 
I wadna gie my ain true Love 

For ony lord that we hae ! " 

She prink'd hersell and preen'd hersell 

By the ae light o' the moon, 
And she 's awa' to Carterhaugh, 

To speak wi' young Tamlane. 

"mak' mickle," make much of. " deid," death, 

"wightest," nimblest. " dee," die. "prink'd hersell and 

preen'd hersell," deck'd herself and pinn'd herself. "ae," only. 



Tamlane 367 

14 

No sooner had she pu'd a leaf, 

A leaf but only twae, 
When up he started, young Tamlane, 

Says, "Lady, thou pu's nae mae ! " 

15 

" O tell me truth, Tamlane ! " she says, 

" A word ye mauna lee ; 
Were ever ye in a holy chapel, 

Or sain'd in Christentee ? " 

16 

" The truth I '11 tell to thee, Janet, 

A word I winna lee ; 
I am a knight's and a lady's son, 

And was sain'd as well as thee. 

17 

" But once it fell upon a day, 

As hunting I did ride, 
As I rade east and o'er yon hill, 

Strange chance did me betide. 

18 
" There blew a drowsy, drowsy wind, 

Dead sleep upon me fell, 
The Queen of Fairies she was there 

And took me to hersell. 

19 
" And never would I tire, Janet, 

Tn fairy-land to dwell ; 
But aye at every seven years 

They pay the teind to hell ; 

" lee, " lie. " sain'd," sanctified, baptized. 
" teind," tithe. 



68 The Ballad Book 

And though the Queen mak's much o* me, 
I fear 't will be mysell 

20 
" To-morrow night it 's Hallowe'en, 

Our fairy court will ride 
Through England and through Scotland baith, 

And through the world sae wide ; 
And if that ye wad borrow me, 

At Miles Cross ye maun bide. 

21 

" Ye '11 gae into the Miles Moss 

Atween twelve hours and one ; 
Tak' holy water in your hand, 

And cast a compass rounV 

22 

" But how shall I ken thee, Tamlane, 

Or how shall I thee knaw, 
Amang sae mony unearthly knights, 

The like I never saw ? " 

~3 

"The first court that comes along 

Ye '11 let them a' pass by ; 
The second court that comes along 

Salute them reverently. 

24 

"The third court that comes along 

Is clad in robes o' green, 
And it 's the head court o' them a', 

And in it rides the Queen ; 

'* Hallowe'en," eve of Allhallows. " borrow," ransom, 

"cast a compass," draw a circle. 



Tamlane 369 

25 
"And I upon a milk-white steed 

Wi' a bright star in my crown ; 
Because I am a christened knight 

They gave me that renown. 
26 
" My right hand will be gloved, Janet, 

My left hand will be bare ; 
And when ye see these tokens 

Ye '11 ken that I am there. 

27 
" Ye '11 seize upon me at a spring, 

And to the ground I '11 fa 1 , 
And then ye '11 hear a ruefu' cry 

That Tamlane he 's awa\ 

28 
" They '11 turn me cauld in your arms, Janet, 

As ice on a frozen lake ; 
But haud me fast, let me not pass, 

Gin ye would be my maik. 

29 
" They '11 turn me in your arms, Janet, 

An adder and an aske ; 
They '11 turn me in your arms, Janet, 

A bayle that burns fast ; 

30 

" They'll shape me in your arms, Janet, 

A dove, but and a swan ; 
And at last they '11 shape me in your arms 

A mother-naked man : 

1 maik, " mate. "aske," a kind of lizard. "bayle," a 

large fire. 
24 



370 The Ballad Book 

Cast your green mantle over me, 
And sae shall I be wan." 

The veiy next night unto Miles Moss 

Fair Janet she is gone, 
And she stands beside the Miles Cross 

Atween twelve hours and one. 

32 
There 's holy water in her hand, 

She casts a compass round ; 
And soon she saw a fairy band 

Come riding o'er the mound. 

33 
And first gaed by the black, black steed, 

And then gaed by the brown ; 
But fast she gript the milk-white steed 

And pu'd the rider down. 

34 
She pu'd him frae the milk-white steed, 

And loot the bridle fa' ; 
And up there rase an eldritch cry, 

" He 's won amang us a' ! " 

35 
They turned him in fair Janet's arms 

Like ice on frozen lake ; 
They turned him into a burning fire, 

An adder, and a snake. 

36 

They shaped him in her arms at last 

A mother-naked man ; 
She cuist her mantle over him, 
And sae her true-love wan. 
"wan," won. "eldiitch," elvish. " cuist," cast. 



Tamlane 371 

37 
Up then and spak' the Queen o' Fairies, 

Out o' a bush o' broom, 
" She that has borrowed young Tamlane, 

Has gotten a stately groom ! " 

33 

Up then and spak' the Queen o' Fairies, 

Out o' a bush o' rye, 
" She 's ta'en awa' the bonniest knight 

In a' my companie ! 

39 
" But had I kenn'd, Tamlane," she says, 

"A lady wad borrowed thee, 
I wad ta'en out thy twa gray e'en, 

Put in twa e'en o' tree. 

40 
" Had I butkenn'd, Tamlane," she says, 

" Before we cam' frae hame, 
I wad ta'en out your heart o' flesh, 

Put in a heart of stane. 

41 
" Had I but had the wit yestreen 

That I have coft this day, 
I 'd paid my teind seven times to hell 

Ere you 'd been won away ! " 

"tree," wood. " coft, " bought. "teind," tithe. 





NOTES 



I. Thomas the Rhymer. — Thomas Learmont, of Erceldowne 
(a village on the river Leader, two miles above its junction 
with the Tweed), was a Scottish gentleman who lived in 
the thirteenth century ; * and to him, commonly called 
"Thomas the Rhymer," and sometimes "True Thomas," 
many poems and "prophecies" in circulation among the 
common people were attributed. The ruins of an ancient 
tower are still pointed out as his ; and therein it seems, 
sometime in the last century, one Murray, a quack-doctor 
of the humbler sort, attempted for a while to revive the 
business of Wizard, t A rhymer no doubt was Thomas in 
his day, but nothing that now survives is really traceable 
to his hand. He was carried off into Fairy-Land, said the 
story-tellers, and came back with gift of prophecy ; and on 
this peg various ballads and " prophecies " were hung. 
There is a defective MS. of perhaps the fourteenth century 
in the Cathedral Library of Lincoln containing parts of a 
poem on Thomas of Erceldowne, and parts of the same 
poem exist in two other defective MSS., one in the Univer- 
sity Library, Cambridge, and one in the British Museum. J 
It is an old form of the story how Thomas met the Queen 
of Elfland, and has much beauty ; but the ballad given in 
Border Minstrelsy, as mainly from oral tradition, is more 
simple and suitable to our purpose. With Sir Walter's 
"altered" second and "modern" third parts, in continua- 

* Deed or charter by Thomas's son, dated in 1299 ; in Advo- 
cates' Library, Edinburgh ; given by Scott in Border Minstrelsy. 

t Scott. 

\ Laing, Select Remains of A ncient Popular Poetry of Scot- 
land> as quoted by Prof. Child. 



374 Notes 

tion of the same, we have no business. He has placed the 
three parts together in the volume of " Imitations." 

II. The Twa Corbies. — Scott's Border Minstrelsy ; from Mr. 
C. K. Sharpe, "as written down, from tradition, by a lady." 
It much resembles " The Three Ravens," given by Ritson 
in Ancient Songs, from Melismata, London, 1611 ; a bal- 
lad, says Ritson, "much older, not only than the date of the 
book, but than most of the other pieces contained in it." 

in. Hynd Horn. — (" Hynd," courteous, gentle.) Cromek's 
Select Scottish Songs : Kinloch : Buchan : Motherwell. A 
popular ballad-abridgment of an ancient metrical romance 
which is preserved in Harleian MS. 2253, British Museum, 
written apparently (thinks Ritson) in the reign of Edward 
II., and which itself is a translation and abridgment of 
a French original. This romance, " The Geste of King 
Horn," is given in Ritson's Ancient English Metrical 
Romances, ii. 91. 

iv. The Banks o' Yarrow. — Of this ballad, said to be popu- 
lar in Ettrick Forest, there are many various versions ; it 
is supposed to be founded on fact, but, in searching for the 
fact, one finds only loose and contradictory traditions, — 
nothing at all worth attending to. 

The river Yarrow, much famed in song, runs through a 
wide vale in Selkirkshire between lofty green hills, and joins 
the Tweed above the town of Selkirk. 

" The Tennies " is a farm below the Yarrow Kirk. 

v. Earl Mar's Daughter. — From Buchan. with some verbal 
alterations. The version, like most of Buchan 's, is by him 
presented in the form given by the reciter ; but that form is 
very evidently vulgarized. For example, take such a line 
as this : — 

"Your lovely face did me enchant," 
or the last stanza in his copy (omitted by us on the de- 
merits) : — 

" When that Earl Mar he came to know 
Where his dochter did stay, 
He signed a bond o' unity, 
And visits now they pay." 
Our version, keeping unchanged every incident and turn of 
thought, is, in form, essentially much more a true old ballad 
than Buchan's. 



Notes 375 

vi. Brown Adam. — Border Minstrelsy. "There is a copy of 
this ballad in Mrs. Brown's collection. The editor has seen 
one printed on a single sheet. The epithet, 'Smith,' im- 
plies, probably, the surname, not the profession, of the hero, 
who seems to be an outlaw. There is, however, in Mrs. 
Brown's copy a verse of little merit here omitted, alluding 
to the implements of that occupation." — Scott. 

vii. Edom o' Gordon. — Printed by Foulis, Glasgow, 1755, as 
taken down by Sir D. Dalrymple " from the recitation of a 
lady" ; in Percy's Reliques, "interpolated and corrupted," 
says Ritson. Ritson gave a copy, from a collection in the 
Cotton Library, in his A ncient Songs ; a version called 
" Loudoun Castle " is given in The Ballads a7id Songs of 
Ayrshire (First Series). 

This ballad refers, but with the inexactness usual in bal- 
lads, to an event of 1571, when Adam Gordon, Deputy- 
Lieutenant of the North of Scotland for Queen Mary, sent 
Captain Carr, or Ker, with a party of men to seize Towie, a 
mansion of the Forbes family. Forbes was not at home, 
and his lady refused to open the gates, taunting Carr from 
her walls, who at last set the house on fire and burned all 
the inmates, thirty-seven in number. Some versions name 
Captain Carr as guilty of the cruel deed ; but others Adam, 
or Edom, of Gordon, who sent him ; and the latter name 
has settled into this ballad. Other names of places and per- 
sons mentioned differ in the different versions. 

viii. Young Waters. — Given by Percy "from a copy printed 
not long since at Glasgow, in one sheet 8vo. The world 
was indebted for its publication to the Lady Jean Hume, 
sister to the Earl of Hume " [very vague !]. Buchan has a 
much longer, but a weak and vulgar version. The ballad 
has been supposed to allude to the fate of the Earl of Mur- 
ray, murdered by the Earl of Huntley, 1592, under prompt- 
ing (as people said) of the jealous king. There is, at most, 
a resemblance in the motive. 

ix. The Wife of Usher's Well. — Border Minstrelsy. Two 
verses, "Lie still," &c, and "O it's they've ta'en up," 
&c, are from Mr. R. Chambers's version, recovered from 
recitation ; one, " Our mother has nae mair," has been 
added to complete the sense, and " fish be in the flood," 
&c, put instead of "fishes in the flood," — Scott's, which 



376 Notes 

he notes as obscure and probably corrupted by reciters. 
Mr. Aytoun has " freshes in the flood " ; Mr. Lockhart sug- 
gested "fashes," i. e. troubles. This ballad is by some 
thought to be a fragment of a longer one, " The Clerk's 
Twa Sons o' Owsenford " ; but the part is much better than 
the whole (an acknowledged composite) as given by Mr. 
Chambers. "Martinmas," feast of St. Martin, November 
ii, the customary time to kill winter beef and pork, and a 
season of rustic jollity. 

"Mantle." — A peasant woman's mantle lasted many 
years, and was a kind of homely-sacred object to the chil- 
dren of a family. 

x. The Death of Parcv Reed. — First published in the Lo- 
cal Historians Table- Book, by Mr. Robert White, from 
the chanting of an old woman. Percival or Parcy Reed, 
proprietor of Troughend, in Redesdale, Northumberland, 
having brought to justice certain moss-trooping relatives or 
allies of the Croziers, was by these Croziers set upon and 
murdered, with connivance of the Halls of Girsonsfield, a 
farm near Troughend. The ballad (which, with some awk- 
wardness, is a simple and effective narrative of the realistic 
kind) is said to keep close to facts ; date and authorities not 
given. 

xi. Waly, Waly. — First published in Allan Ramsay's Tea- 
Table Miscellany, in 1724, and marked "Z," as an Old 
Song. Some have dated it about the middle of the six- 
teenth century. Part of it (by Mr. Chambers all of it) has 
been pieced into a later ballad on the Marchioness of Doug- 
lass, married 1670 and deserted by her husband. 

xii. The Laird o' Drum. — Kinloch : Buchan : Percy Society, 
vol. xvii. Professor Aytoun gives a version from collation, 
which we have taken the liberty to follow, except a line or 
two. Alexander Irvine of Drum (one of Charles I.'s Scot- 
tish adherents) married, in 1643, Maty, daughter of the 
Marquis of Huntly ; but for his second wife chose Margaret 
Coutts, a girl of humble rank, thus offending his family, — 
but not the public, for whom this ballad was made. The 
love of an untitled youth for a noble maiden is a usual 
source of interest in German novels, and so is a courtship 
between persons of very unequal rank in our ballad litera- 
ture. Many of the current Irish ballads turn upon this : for 



Notes 377 

example, "The Bonny Laboring Boy," "Willy Reilly," 
"Willy of Lough-Erne Shore." 
xiii. Annan Water. — Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border^ 
"from tradition." It is said that a bridge was built over 
the Annan after the drowning which the ballad narrates. 

xiv. The Hunting of the Cheviot. — This ballad (of Henry 
VIII. 's time ?) is here presented in modern spelling. Hearne 
printed it in the preface to his Gulielmus Neubrigensis, 
from a MS. in the Ashmolean collection at Oxford. It 
has no ascertained historical basis whatever ; some of the 
incidents and verses are borrowed from the ballads on 
" The Battle of Otterbourne," relating to an encounter 
between Percy and Douglas in the year 1388. The better 
known but inferior ballad of " Chevy Chace," is a modern- 
ized version of this, done probably in the time of James I. 

xv. Bessie Bell and Mary Gray. — Recovered by Mr. 
Sharpe, says Mr. Chambers. Given in Lyle's Ancient 
Ballads a7id Songs (1827), as collated "from the singing 
of two aged persons." Bessie Bell and Mary Gray, daugh- 
ters of two country gentlemen near Perth, were intimate 
friends. Bessie being on a visit to Mary at her father's 
house of Lynedoch when the plague of 1666 broke out, the 
two girls, to avoid contagion, went to live in a bower, or 
summer-house of some kind, in a retired and picturesque 
place called the Burn-braes, about a mile west of Lynedoch 
House. But the plague found and slew them, and their 
bodies were buried at Dornoch Haugh, a secluded spot 
by the river Almond. (Pennant's Tour.) Allan Ramsay 
wrote a song with the same title, and using the first verse 
of this ballad. 

XVI. Sir Patrick Spens. — Percy: Scott: Jamieson : Buchan : 
Motherwell. A ballad, the subject of much discussion, into 
which for once we may dip a little, as a specimen of such 
debates and what they come to. It is "very old, but evi- 
dently retouched," say some; refers to an ineffectual expe- 
dition, Sir Walter Scott guesses, that may have been sent 
for Margaret, called the Maid of Norway (daughter of Eric, 
king of Norway, and Margaret, daughter of Alexander III. 
of Scotland), after the death of her grandfather Alexander 
in 1285, which made her Queen of Scotland: but she re- 
mained m Norway, and in a short time died there. Mr. 



378 Notes 

Finlay thinks it more likely to have to do with James the 
Third's marriage with Margaret, daughter of the king of 
Denmark. "No memorial of the subject of the ballad 
exists in history," says Ritson. Mr. Motherwell has no 
doubt whatever that " the ballad is founded on authentic 
history," and sings the fate of certain Scottish nobles who 
accompanied Margaret, daughter of Alexander III., to her 
nuptials with Eric, king of Norway, and were drowned on 
their homeward voyage, teste Fordun's History of Scotland. 
• Mr. Robert Chambers, in his collection of Scottish Ballads, 
published 1829, says " the occasion of the ballad is now 
known to have been," &c. (as Motherwell says), — and 
" thinks it extremely probable that Sir Patrick Spens 
lived near the little port of Aberdour," &c But in 1859 
{Essay on the Romantic Scottish Ballads) Mr. Chambers 
" feels assured that Sir Patrick is a modern ballad, and 
suspects, or more than suspects, that the author is Lady 
Wardlaw." Percy's version (" from two manuscript copies 
transmitted from Scotland") says not a word of Norway, 
or of any king's daughter : Scott's (made up from two 
MS. copies, collated with several verses recited by a friend) 
has, — 

" The King's daughter of Noroway, 
'T is thou maun bring her hame." 

Professor Aytoun alters these two lines into, — 

" The King's daughter to Noroway, 
It 's thou maun tak' her hame," 

which Mr. Chambers calls " unjustifiable " conduct. Bu- 
chan's version (taken down from the recitation of a blind 
wandering minstrel in the North of Scotland, who learned 
it in his youth from a very old person) has, — 

"To Noroway wi' our King's daughter, 
A chosen queen she 's now." 

There is no old MS. of the ballad. All the "foundation " 
which really seems attainable is this, that in old times there 
was much intercourse between Scotland and Norway, and 
between the royal courts of the two countries, and that 
some shipwreck, not altogether unlike this, may probably 
have happened. In fine, let not our readers trouble them- 
selves about the connection of this, or any other of these 



Notes 379 

ballads, with "authentic history," and they will be gainers 
in comfort, and no losers otherwise. At Dunfermline, on 
the north side of the Firth of Forth, was a palace of the 
Scottish Kings. Aberdour is a little port, about five miles 
distant. There is an extremely fine tract of hard white sand 
(says Mr. Chambers) to the east of Aberdour. 

[. King John and the Abbot. — From Percy's Reliques: 
there marked with %*, the sign of " considerable liberties " 
taken by the editor. ''The common popular ballad [says 
he] of King John and the Abbot seems to have been 
abridged and modernized about the time of James I. from 
one much older, entitled King John and the Bishop of 
Canterbury. The editor's folio MS. contains a copy of 
this last, but in too corrupt a state to be reprinted ; it, how- 
ever, afforded many lines worth reviving, which will be 
found inserted in the ensuing stanzas." 

[i. The Douglas Tragedy. — Border Minstrelsy. Mother- 
well gives an imperfect version. Scott says this ballad " is 
one of the few to which popular tradition has ascribed com- 
plete locality. The farm of Blackhouse, in Selkirkshire, is 
said to have been the scene." He does not attempt to give 
a date. There are very similar Swedish and Danish ballads. 

. Kempion. — Border Minstrelsy, " chiefly from Mrs. 
Brown's MS., with corrections from a recited fragment." 
The ballad of " Kemp Owain " (" Champion Owen" per- 
haps), given by Buchan and by Motherwell, tells the same 
story, with differences of detail. " The Laidly Worm of 
Spindlestonheugh," often printed in ballad-books, is a 
partly modern version of the same. The subject is a fa- 
vorite one in popular fiction. 
Johnnie of Braidislee. — " Johnny of Breadislee," in 
Border Minstrelsy : " Johnie of Braidisbank," in Mother- 
well's Minstrelsy : "Johnny Cock" (two versions), in Fry's 
Pieces of Ancient Poetry, Bristol, 1814 : "Johnie of 
Cocklesmuir " (North of Scotland version), in Kinloch's 
A ncient Scottish Ballads : also in Buchan' s Scottish Tra- 
ditional versions of A ncient Ballads, Percy Society, vol. 
xvii. These are various versions of one story. We have 
compared and selected, but added nothing. Scott, whose 
version was first published, says " the hero of this ballad 
appears to have been an outlaw and deer-stealer, — proba- 



380 Notes 

bly one of the broken men residing upon the Border. There 
are several different copies, in one of which the principal 
personage is called ' Johnie of Cockielaw.' The stanzas of 
greatest merit have been selected from each copy." This 
is what we also have endeavored to do, with the advantage 
of additional copies to select from, 
xxi. The Birth of Robin Hood. — Jamieson, from the reci- 
tation of Mrs. Brown, " without the alteration of a single 
word." It is not one of the "Robin Hood Ballads," as 
printed in the Garlands, and collected by Ritson. Buchan 
gives a queer version : — 

" What aileth my love Clementina? " &c, &c. 

xxii. Fair Annie. — Herd : Scott : Jamieson : Motherwell : 
Chambers. The story of " Fair Annie," of which we have 
in print several different Scottish versions, is found in old 
French, in Swedish, in Danish, in Dutch, in German. 

xxiii. Childe Maurice. — Of this ballad, before it appeared 
in Percy's Reliques, two editions are known to have been 
printed in Scotland under the title of "Gil Morice." An 
advertisement to the second edition (Glasgow, 1755) states 
that " its preservation was owing to a lady who favored the 
printers with a copy, as it was carefully collected from the 
mouths of old women and nurses " ; and " any reader who 
can render them more complete " is requested to make 
public his information. On this, four other stanzas were 
forthcoming, which Percy inserted when he published the 
ballad in his Reliques, though, "perhaps, after all, only an 
ingenious interpolation" : they began thus : — 
" His hair was like the threeds of gold 
Drawne frae Minerva's loome" (!). 
But besides this particular piece of ingenuity, and other 
very evident though unacknowledged patches, this ballad, 
according to Scott (see Motherwell's Minstrelsy, p. 259), 
had undergone "a total rev isal, about the period when the 
tragedy of ' Douglas ' [founded thereon] was in the zenith 
of its popularity " : that is, before Percy took it in hand. 
The Bishop had found in that mysterious Folio MS., in 
whose existence Ritson was so slow to believe, "a very old 
imperfect copy of the same ballad " ; but greatly prefers 
the modern version: "the coloring is much improved and 
heightened, and many additional strokes are thrown in." 



Notes 381 

In 1806 Jamieson printed from the Folio MS. the ballad 
of " Childe Maurice." A few lines, perhaps half a dozen, 
are wanting, but the story is complete. There seems to be 
little or no doubt that the name " Gil Morice " itself is a 
modern corruption. A version was recited to Mr. Mother- 
well, about the year 1825, by an old woman who gave the 
name of " Chield Morice," and said she recollected when 
the new set of the ballad under the title of " Gil Morice " 
began to supersede the old form. Mr. Motherwell also got 
a version of the ballad, in 1825, from the recitation of Widow 
McCormack, of Paisley, under the title of" Child Norice." 
This version, which is brief, and has several good points, 
he considers as the true original of all the others, and that 
"Child Norice" (i. e. Nurseling) is the right form of the 
name. This, however, remains unproven, and if we go by 
internal evidence, the version in the Folio MS. is certainly 
the oldest we have. In it the slayer of " Child Maurice " 
is named John Steward. 

For our version we have collated (adding nothing) the 
Folio version and the sets of Motherwell's two old women ; 
disregarding the thoroughly corrupt version of the Reliques. 

xxiv. Brown Robyn's Confession. — This curious ballad-ver- 
sion of a Catholic miracle is from Buchan, i. no, who does 
not say where he found it. 

xxv. The Jolly Goshawk. — Mainly from Motherwell. 
Scott's "selected" version ("The Gray Goss-Hawk") is 
much sophisticated. Buchan has a version entitled, "The 
Scottish Squire." 

xxvi. Alison Gross. — Jamieson, "from the recitation of Mrs. 
Brown." 

xxvii. Of "Johnnie Armstrong" the best version is in Wit 
Restored (1658) ; another, with additional stanzas, is in A 
Collection of Old Ballads (London, 1723); another, being 
a Scottish version, and very different from these, in Ram- 
say's Evergreen (1724). This Ballad no doubt gives one a 
true notion, as far as it goes, of the times of Border free- 
booting ; but while making use of a real name and event, it 
has not the least claim to historic accuracy. King James 
V. of Scotland (he who " made the rush-bush keep the 
cow"), being on an expedition through Ettrick and else- 
where against the Borderers, perhaps in 1529, was boldly 



382 Notes 

accosted by the famous freebooter John Armstrong, at the 
head of some thirty or forty horsemen, who asked pardon 
and offered his services ; but the king had them all seized 
and "hanged upon growing trees" at Carlenrig, ten miles 
from Hawick. " The bodies were buried in a deserted 
churchyard, where their graves are still shown." [Pitscot- 
tie's History, p. 145. Scott's Border Minstrelsy, i. 402.] 

xxviii. Katharine Janfarie. — Scott's Border Minstrelsy : 
Motherwell (" Catharine Johnstone ") : Maidment's North 
Countrie Garland: Buchan's Gleanings. In Scott's ver- 
sion the English bridegroom is named " Lord Lochinvar " ; 
and Scott founded his lyric of Lochinvar on this ballad, 
but gave that name to the unsuccessful suitor. 

Young Child Dying, translated by Jamieson in Illustra- 
tions of Northern A ntiquities, is an old Danish ballad on 
the same story. 

xxix. Robin Hood rescuing the Widow's Three Sons. — 
In Ritson's Robin Hood, from Robin Hood's Garland 
(earliest edition known, 1670); probably "one of the old- 
est" ballads of Robin Hood, thinks Ritson. 

xxx. Fair Annie of Lochroyan. — Herd : a fragment in 
Johnson's Mtiseum : Scott's Border Minstrelsy, " se- 
lected " from five versions : Jamieson, from MS. trans- 
mitted from Aberdeen by Professor Robert Scott: Buchan 
(" Love Gregory "). 

Lochroyan, or Loch Ryan, a bay on the southwest coast 
of Scotland, holding the seaport of Stranraer. 

xxxi. A Lyke-wake Dirge. —This Lyke-Wake [i. e. Dead- 
Watch] Dirge is of the North of England, and is said to 
have been sung, in Yorkshire, over corpses, down to about 
1624 (see Brand's "Pop. Antiq." 1841, ii. 155). Scott, 
publishing it in his Border Minstrelsy, noted: "The late 
Mr. Ritson found an illustration of this dirge in a MS. of 
the Cotton Library, containing an account of Cleveland, in 

Yorkshire, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth ' When 

any dieth, certaine women sing a song to the dead bodie, 
recyting the jorney that the partye deceased must goe ; and 
they are of beliefe (such is their fondnesse) that, once in 
their lives, it is good to give a pair of new shoes to a poor 
man, forasmuch as, after this life, they are to pass barefoote 
through a great launde, full of thornes and furzen, except 



Notes 383 

by the meryte of the almes aforesaid they have redeemed 
the forfeyte ; for at the edge of the launde an oulde man shall 
meet them with the same shoes that were given by the par- 
tye when he was lyving ; and, after he hath shodde them, 
dismisseth them to go through thick and thin, without 
scratch or scalle.' — Julius, F. vi. 459." 

" The Bridge of Dread, lying in our road when we pass 
from this world, is described," says Sir Walter, " in the 
legend of Sir Owaiu, Xo. xl. in the MS. collection of Ro- 
mances, W. xli. Advocates' Library, Edinburgh." The 
Orientals have a similar fancy, of a narrow bridge over an 
abyss. 

In the Border Minstrelsy it is noted that sleet seems to 
be corrupted from seli, i. e. salt, which it was customary to 
lay in a platter on the breast of the corpse. In Brand we 
have fleet, but the whole version there seems inferior. The' 
sixth and seventh verses of the dirge (if no more) are lost. 

xxxii. Etin the Forester. — A fragment of it is given by 
Kinloch ("Hynde Etin"); by Buchan a complete version 
("Young Akin"), and, by the same (through Motherwell), 
a modernized copy. There is a similar Swedish ballad. 
"Etin" seems to mean, or be a name for, a Giant, and in 
some forms of the story the hero is obscurely spoken of as a 
supernatural or preternatural being. This character, how- 
ever, was not kept up by the reciters, and at last slipped 
away from the ballad, which is consistent and complete as 
a purely human story ; Etin being taken (if not as a mere 
name) as designating a man living a wild sylvan life. 

xxxiii. The Lawlands o' Holland. — A fragment of it in 
Herd (1769) : a version in Johnson's Musical Museum. 
"This ballad, the Editor is informed, was composed about 
the beginning of last century by a young widow in Gallo- 
way, whose husband was drowned on a voyage to Holland. 
The third verse in the Museum is spurious nonsense, and 
Johnson has omitted the last stanza altogether." — Mr. 
Stenhouse, Notes to Musical Museum (1853), iv. 115. It 
is probably an old strain readapted. 

xxxiv. The Twa Sisters o' Binnorie. — A short burlesque 
version, "The Miller and the King's Daughter," in Wit 
Restored (1658) : a manufactured version in Pinkerton's 
Tragic Ballads : another manufactured version in Border 



384 Notes 

Minstrelsy, "compiled," says Scott, "from a copy in Mrs. 
Brown's MSS., intermixed with a beautiful fragment, of 
fourteen verses, transmitted to the Editor by J. C. Walker, 
Esq., the ingenious historian of the Irish Bards," who had 
it from Miss Brook, who had it from an old woman. Jamie- 
son gives a version, verbatim, from the recitation of Mrs. 
Brown, but with no less than ten interpolated stanzas of his 
own. 

In Mrs. Brown's copy the burden ran : 

" Edinborough, Edinborough, — 
Stirling for aye ; — - 
Bonny St. Johnston stands upon Tay " : 

in the Irish fragment thus : 

" Hey ho, my Nanny, O ; 
While the swans swim bonny, O." 

Both Scott and Jamieson adopted the " Binnorie " bur- 
den, without saying distinctly where it came from. On the 
pronunciation of this word the doctors differ ; "it may be 
necessary, euphonies gratia" says Jamieson, "to caution 
the English reader that the burden is pronounced Binnd- 
rie." " Pronounced Binnorie," says Mr. Lockhart curtly, 
in a note in Border Minstrelsy, and is backed by Professor 
Aytoun. There are Scandinavian ballads with a similar 
story. 

xxxv. Glenlogie. — Smith's Scottish Minstrel; a book in 
which, according to Motherwell, "great liberties" are 
taken with the songs. Mr. Sharpe, in his Ballad Book, 
gives another version, which is preferred by Mr. Chambers 
and by Professor Aytoun. 

xxxvi. The Children in the Wood. — Perhaps the best bal- 
lad in the pedestrian style. Reprinted by Percy "from 
two ancient copies, one of them in blackletter, in the Pepys 
Collection." The ballad was entered on the Stationers' 
books in 1595. A play by Robert Yarrington, published 
1 60 1, has a very similar plot ; the scene laid in Padua. 

xxxvii. Young Beichan. — Jamieson: Kinloch : Percy So- 
ciety, vol. xvii., &c. This very popular ballad, of which 
there are numerous versions (including the modern one of 
Lord Bateman), seems founded on an adventnre of Gil- 
bert Becket, father of the famous archbishop ; see Robert 



Notes 385 

of Gloucester's Life and Martyrdom of Thomas Bcket 
(Percy Society, vol. xix.). The fair foreigner on reaching 
London could speak no intelligible word but her lover's 
name, and constantly asking for "Gilbert! Gilbert," she 
at last found Irra c„c. 

Our version is mostly from Jamieson, omitting his ac- 
knowledged interpolations. H^ gives a second and infe- 
rior ballad, " Young Bekie," on the same subject. Kinloch 
has a version which seems to have been recast by some 
vulgar modern hand, but it gives the story clearly, and has 
supplied us with some verses. We have added none. 

xxxviii. Clerk Saunders. — Border Minstrelsy. "From 
Mr. Herd's M5S., with several corrections from a shorter 
and more imperfect copy in the same volume, and one or 
two conjectural emendations in the arrangement of the 
stanzas." Other versions in Jamieson (with additions by 
him) : Kinloch : Buchan. Clerk Saunders was so called, 
probably, for his learning : one version describes him as 
"well learned at the school." " Crystal wand" needs ex- 
planation or emendation.* Some think the verses from 
"The clinking bell" to the end to be separate and distinct 
from those which precede them, and that Scott adapted 
and combined the two into one story. But, though several 
other ballads have a very similar conclusion I find no proof 
that " Clerk Saunders " is not as well entitled to it as any 
of the rest, and it would certainly take very strong proof to 
induce us to break in pieces so complete and impressive a 
poem. Jamieson's version, " transmitted by Mrs. Arrott, 
of Aberbrothick," has the ghost : — 

" She was lookin' o'er her castle high, 
To see what she might fa' ; 
And there she saw a grieved ghost 
Comin' wauking o'er the wa'," &c. 

and Margaret follows it to the grave. 

xxxix. The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington. —Percy's 
Reliques, "from an ancient blackletter copy in the Pepys 

* "The clinking bell," &c, It was formerly the custom at 
funerals to ring a handbell before the corpse as they carried it 
along, so that those who heard it might offer a prayer for the soul 
of the deceased 



386 Notes 

collection, with some improvements communicated by a 
lady as she had heard the same recited in her youth." 

xl. A Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode. See Preface. 

xli. Bonnie George Campbell. — The Scottish Minstrel 
(1820 - 24), vol. v., words and music. For rhyme's sake we 
have altered the sixth line of each stanza. They ran 
thus : — 

1. " And gallant rade he " ; 
11. " And booted rade he " ; 
in. "And booted rade he." 

xlii. Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor. — In Collection of 
Old Ballads, London, 1723, vol. i. In Percy's Reliques y 
" given (with corrections) from an ancient copy in black- 
letter, in the Pepys collection." In Ritson's Ancient 
Songs, ii. 89. We have for once (in this and in No. lxiv.) 
given two ballad versions of the same story, — for example's 
sake, and because each has merit and a standing of its own. 

xliii. "Hugh of Lincoln." — Herd: Percy: Jamieson : 
Motherwell: and several other versions. Percy's MS. 
copy " sent from Scotland," begins, — 

" The rain rins down though Mirry-land toune, 
Sae dois it doune the Pa " ; 
and the bishop learnedly argues'that Milan and the Po must 
be meant, "although the Adige, not the Po, runs through 
Milan." Other versions give other corrupt forms, " merry 
Linkim," and" Maitland town": Jamieson's copy "from 
Mrs. Brown's recitation " has the right reading, " merry 
Lincoln." In 1255, teste Matthew Paris (but a so-so-wit- 
ness), the Jews of Lincoln stole a little Christian boy named 
Hugh, tortured and crucified him, and flung his body into 
a pit, where his mother found it. The occupant of the 
house confessed the crime, and that the Jews every year 
thus killed a Christian child. He was hanged, as also were 
eighteen of the richest Jews in Lincoln. The child's body 
was buried with honors in Lincoln Cathedral (where they 
still pretend to show his tomb). Chaucer's Prioress's 
Tale is on the same subject. Horrible tales against the 
poor rich Jews were abundant in the Middle Ages. 

xliv. Barbara Allen's Cruelty. — Ramsay's Tea-Table 
Miscellany. Percy gives the same, "with a few conjec- 
tural emendations," and also another version, "with some 



Notes 387 

corrections, from an old blackletter copy." Pepys in his 
Diary, Jan. 2, 1665-6, names "the little song of Barbary 
Allen." 

XL v. May Colvin. — Herd : Buchan : Motherwell : Sharpe's 
Ballad Book, &c. A story found in various forms, not only 
in English, but also in Swedish and in German ballad litera- 
ture. The country people on the coast of Carrick, in Ayr- 
shire, point out " Fause Sir John's Loup," and an equally 
authentic claim in this matter is made for a locality in the 
North of Scotland. 

xlvi. "Edward, Edward." — First printed in Percy's Rel- 
iques, " transmitted to the editor by Sir David Dalrymple, 
Bart., late Lord Hailes " ; written, some say, (but where 
is proof?) by Lady Wardlaw, — who was, in all probability, 
authoress of the overpraised " Hardyknute." 

xlvi 1. The Outlaw Murray. — Border Minstrelsy. Com- 
piled by Scott from various sources ; no ascertained histori- 
cal foundation. 

xlviii. The Cruel Brother. — Herd : Jamieson " from reci- 
tation of Mrs. Arnott": Gilbert's Ancient Christmas 
Carols, &c. There are Danish, Swedish, and German 
ballads more or less like to this. 

xlix. Little Musgrave, &c. — In Wit* Restored (1658) : 
" The Old Ballad of Little Musgrave and Lady Bar- 
nard " ; in Percy (altered by him) : a Scottish version in 
Jamieson : another in vol. xvii. of the Percy Society. The 
ballad is quoted in Beaumont and Fletcher's burlesque play 
of Knight of the Burning Pestle (produced 161 1), thus: — 
" And some they whistled and some they sung, 
Hey, down, down I 
And some did loudly say, 
Ever as the Lord Barnet's horn blew, 
Away, Musgrave, away." — Act v. Scene 3. 

l. Kinmont Willie. — Border Minstrelsy. In 1596 Salkeld, 
deputy of Lord Scroope, English Warden of the West 
Marches, and Robert Scott, for the Laird of Buccleuch, 
Keeper of Liddesdale, met on the border line for confer- 
ence, and under the usual truce, which lasted till next 
day at sunset. William Armstrong, of Kinmont, a notori- 
ous freebooter, returning from this conference, was seized 
and lodged in Carlisle castle. The Laird of Buccleuch, af- 



388 Notes 

ter treating in vain for his release, raised two hundred horse, 
and on the 13th of April surprised the castle and carried off 
the prisoner, on hearing of which Queen Elizabeth " stormed 
not a little." Scott gives a long account of this in the Bor- 
der Minstrelsy. " This ballad, " he says, " is preserved by 
tradition on the West Borders, but much mangled by recit- 
ers, so that some conjectural emendations have been abso- 
lutely necessary to render it intelligible." 

Li. Fine Flowers in the Valley. — Given in Johnson's 
Musical Museum : also by Motherwell, as " The Cruel 
Mother," with the burden 

" Three, three, and three by three ; 
Three, three, and thirty -three" ; 
and by Kinloch, with the burden 
"All alone, and alonie ; 
Doun by the greenwud sae bonnie" 
Our version is Johnson's (to a word or two), adding the last 
verse from Kinloch. The burden, singing of flowers and 
leaves, at once deepens and softens the tragedy. 

Lil. Robin Hood's Death and Burial. — Printed in Robin 
Hood's Garland (York), and given by Ritson, "from a 
collation of two different copies, containing numerous vari- 
ations." 

LIU. Young Redin. — A ballad found in various versions and 
under various names : " Earl Richard," " Young Hunting," 
"Lord William," "Young Redin." A fragment of it in 
Herd : a " selected " version in Border Minstrelsy : a ver- 
sion in Buchan : one, " from recitation of Miss E. Beattie," 
in Kinloch : another, "from recitation," in Motherwell : a 
factitious version, in pseudo-antique spelling, in Scarce 
Ancient Ballads, Alexander Laing, Aberdeen, 1822. 

liv. The Fray o' Suport. — Border Minstrelsy. This odd 
and forcible outburst " is usually chanted in a sort of wild 
recitative, except the burden, which swells into a long and 
varied howl, not unlike a view-hollo An English- 
woman, residing in Suport [Cumberland], near the foot of 
the Kers-hope, having been plundered in the night by a 
band of the Scottish moss-troopers, is supposed to convoke 
her servants and friends for the pursuit, or Hot Trod. .... 
The present text is collected from four copies, which differed 
widely from each other." — Scott. 



Notes 389 

\ 

lv. The Ship 0' the Fiend. — In Border Minstrelsy as " The 
Daemon Lover " (a name which we have ventured to alter, 
being evidently not old), " taken down from recitation by 
Mr. William Laidlaw." In Buchan, "James Henries": 
In Motherwell, a fragment. 

lvi. Lamkin. — A very popular ballad ; found in Herd as 
" Lammikin " : in Jamieson as " Lanekin " : in Finlay in 
two versions : in Motherwell as " Lambert Linkin " : also 
in A New Book of Old Ballads as '"Bold Rankin" : and 
in the Drawing- R 00m Scrap Book, 1837, as ''Long Lon- 
kin." All these we have collated (as usual, adding nothing 
to the traditionary matter), and with these a copy taken 
down from the mouth of an Irish nurse in the family of a 
relative of the editor. The murderer is called by various 
names, "Lamkin," "Lammikin," "Lankin," "Linkin," 
"Belinkin," " Balcanqual," "Lambert Linkin," " Lam- 
merlinkin," "Rankin." One version begins : — 
" Belinkin was as gude a mason 
As ever pic^t a stane ; 
He built up Prime Castle 
But payment gat nane." 

Lyn. The Frolicksome Duke. — From Percy's Reliques. 
The plot of this ballad is immeasurably old. It appears in 
a story of the A rabian Nights, a play of Shakespeare, and 
many other forms. 

lviii. Childe Vyet. — Maidment's North Countrie Garland: 
Buchan : in Jamieson a fragment of a similar story (" Lord 
Wa'yates and Auld Ingram "). 

lix. The Baron of Brackley. — Jamieson. Buchan has 
another version in his Gleanings. Between John Gordon 
of Brackley, in Aberdeenshire, and Farquharson, of In- 
verey, was a fray in September, i655, wherein the former 
was killed. 

lx. Burd Ellen. — Given by Percy from his " MS. collection" 
(touching it up a little) as "Child Waters" : by Jamieson 
as "Burd Ellen " : by Buchan in another version under the 
same name : by Kinloch as " Lady Margaret." Mr. R. 
Chambers gives a composite version, with some lines from 
a MS. supplied by Mr. Kinloch. 

lxi. Lament of the Border Widow. — Border Minstrelsy. 



390 Notes 

"This fragment, obtained from recitation in the Forest of 
Ettrick, is said to relate to the execution of Cockburne of 
Henderland, a Border freebooter, hanged over the gate 
of his own tower by James V. in the course of that mem- 
orable expedition in 1529, which was fatal to Johnie Arm- 
strong, Adam Scott of Tushielaw, and many other maraud- 
ers." — Scott. 

lxii. Willy's Ladye is given by Scott, and the same story 
by Jamieson under the title of Sweet Willy. Jamieson 
gives also a modernized version ; and Lewis in his Tales of 
Wonder dished up a ballad upon it in his own taste. Pro- 
fessor Aytoun has given it mainly from Jamieson with a few 
touches. Billy Blind seems to be a comic name, taken 
from the game of Blindman's Buff/for a familiar and good- 
natured house-spirit, a sort of Brownie or Lar. Scott 
never met the name elsewhere than in Mrs. Brown's bal- 
lads. It seems that in Scotland the blinded person in the 
aforesaid game is also called the Bogle (i. e. goblin) ; and ' 
hence, by a metathesis, the domestic Bogle may have come 
to be called " The Billy Blind." 

lxiii. Hughie Graham. — From The Scots Musical Museum, 
sent by Burns "from oral tradition in Ayrshire." Burns 
certainly dressed up the ballad, and wrote some of the 
present stanzas. Allan Cunningham again retouched the 
Burns version for his Songs 0/ Scotland. Scott's version 
in the Border Minstrelsy was "long current in Selkirk- 
shire," but it also is more or less improved by the editor. 
A corrupt copy of the ballad is found in Wit and Mirth, 
Sec. (London, 1714). 

Our version is precisely that of Burns, changing or re- 
storing " Stirling " into Carlisle, in accordance with all 
the other copies, and omitting one verse, in which Hughie 
Graham sends a message to his wife accusing her of mis- 
conduct with the Bishop, a verse that in point of art is i:o 
gain to the ballad. It makes a statement which, if referred 
to at all, ought to be woven into the whole narrative. 

Mr. Stenhouse [Scots Musical Museum, new edit. 1853, 
iv. 297] says, that "according to tradition" the Bishop of 
Carlisle about 1560 did so wrong a Border chief, who in 
revenge made a raid into Cumberland. But all this is, as 
usual, vague and intangible. The ballad is a spirited little 



Notes 391 

picture from the rude times on the Border, and we should 
only weary ourselves in vain by trying to make more of it. 

lxiv. Lord Thomas and Fair Annex. — Given by Percy, 
"with some corrections from a MS. copy transmitted from 
Scotland." He says, it "seems to be composed out of" 
two English ballads, " Lord Thomas and Fair Ellinor " 
and " Fair Margaret and Sweet William." There is a 
similar Swedish ballad. 

lxv. Lizie Lindsay. — Jamieson : Buchin : Whitelaw (from 
recitation of a lady at Glasgow). We have collated, but 
not added. Verse ig one suspects to be partly Jamieson's , 
but it is useful to the situation, and its prettiness, though 
of a modern cast, appears harmless enough. There is a 
well-known song founded on this ballad. 

lxvi. Sweet William's Ghost. — First given in Ramsay's 
Tea-Table Miscellany, imperfectly, and with at least two 
spurious stanzas : also by Kinloch, as " Sweet William and 
May Margaret " : and by Motherwell as " William and 
Marjorie," a better version, from recitation. We have 
added nothing in presenting a complete and consistent 
ballad, distinct from "Clerk Saunders." Some of the ver- 
sions seem little else than variations of the latter part of 
"Clerk Saunders." There are corresponding ballads in 
Danish and Swedish, and similar stories are found in the 
ballad literature of many other lands. 

"Sweet William's Ghost" is very dreamlike and awful. 
The need of getting back the faith and troth once plighted 
is one of the strange laws of the ghostly kingdom. 

lxvii. Lady Elspat. — Jamieson; from Mrs. Brown's recita- 
tion. Here given with two or three merely verbal altera- 
tions. 

lxviii. Willie and May Margaret. — Jamieson (imperfect 
copy), "from the recitation of Mrs. Brown." Buchan, 
"The Drowned Lovers." 

lxix. The Duke of Gordon's Daughter. — The version 
here given is founded, with numerous verbal alterations, 
on a copy (without date or place) bound up with other bal- 
lads in a volume in the British Museum. I have lost the 
exact reference to this volume, which I examined among 
other such, several years ago. 



392 Notes 

lxx. Fair Margaret's Misfortunes. — Percy (from a mod- 
ern printed copy, picked up on a stall) : Herd : Ritson. 
Verse 5 is quoted in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of 
the Burning Pestle, Act ii. 8, in this form : — 

" When it was grown to dark midnight, 
And all were fast asleep, 
In came Margaret's grimly ghost, 
And stood at William's feet" 

We retain the popular ending of "the rose and the briar," 
which, slightly varied, is common to many ballads, though 
it comes in here not very harmoniously. Probably it was 
used, in this and other instances, to carry off somewhat 
lightly a true tragical story. The full title of the stall 
copy, as given by Percy, is Fair Margaret's Misfortunes ; 
or Sweet William 's Frightful Dreams on his Wedding 
Night, with the Sudden Death and Burial of those noble 
Lovers. But he has entitled the ballad, " Fair Margaret 
and Sweet William." 

lxxi. Lord Ronald. — Border Minstrelsy (" Lord Randal"). 
"The hero is more generally termed Lord Ronald (Scott 
admits), but I willingly follow the authority of an Ettrick 
Forest copy for calling him Randal ; because, though the 
circumstances are so very different, I think it not impossible 
that the ballad may originally have regarded the death of 
Thomas Randolph, or Randal, Earl of Murray, &c, &c," 
mere antiquarian moonshine. 

Kinloch gives a version wherein " Lord Donald " is poi- 
soned by a dish of toads, served up as fish. Getting 
"frogs for fish," i. e. foul play, is a phrase used in the 
ballad of "Katharine Janfarie," p. no. Buchan's version 
"Willie Doo '" is in the form of a nursery song. Sweden 
and Germany have similar ballads. 

lxxii. Young John. — From Buchan's Ancient Ballads and 
Songs of the North of Scotland. 

lxxiii. Helen of Kirkconnell. — Border Minstrelsy — from 
tradition. There given with a worthless "First Part" of 
six verses — ("My captive spirit 's at thy feet!" &c.) 
Other versions are given by Herd, Ritson, Jamieson, and 
others. Wordsworth has a ballad {Ellen Irwin), of little 
merit, on the same story. 



Notes 393 

Adam Fleming, says tradition, loved Helen Irving, or 
Bell (for this surname is uncertain, as well as the date of 
the occurrence), daughter of the Laird of Kirkconnell, in 
Dumfriesshire. The lovers being together one day by the 
river Kirtle, a rival suitor suddenly appeared on the oppo- 
site bank and pointed his gun ; Helen threw herself before 
her sweetheart, received the bullet, and died in his arms. 
Then Adam Fleming fought with his guilty rival and slew 
him. 

lxxiv. Glasgerion. — In Percy's Reliqtces, " from the editor's 
folio MS." Jamieson gives a Scottish version (" Glenkin- 
die"), mainly "from the recitation of an old woman." 
Chaucer, in his House of Fame (iii. 118), names " Glas- 
kyrion " as a renowned British harper. 

lxxv. The Gardener. — Kinloch : Buchan. 

lxxvi. Tamlane. — A fragment of this ballad is given by Herd 
(" Kertonha") : a version in Johnson's Micseum ("Tom 
Linn "). In Border Minstrelsy, Scott gives a much longer 
version, "prepared from a collation of the printed copies, 
with a very accurate one in Glenriddel's MSS., and with 
several recitals from tradition. Some verses are omitted in 
this edition, being ascertained to belong to a separate bal- 
lad." Besides collating and omitting, Scott was "enabled 
to add several verses of beauty and interest to this edition 
of Tamlane, in consequence of a copy obtained from a gen- 
tleman residing near Langholm, which is said to be very 
ancient, though the language is somewhat of a modern 
cast." The stanzas alluded to in this evasive manner are 
undoubtedly modern, and we have therefore omitted them, 
with several others equally spurious. Yet one of these was 
quoted the other day in a periodical of high rank, in a paper 
on the fairy mythology, as from "the old ballad of Tam- 
lane," which we mention to show again how very loose are 
the prevailing notions with regard to " Old Ballads," even 
among literary men. This was the stanza quoted : — 
" Their oaten pipes blew wondrous shrill, 
The hemlock small blew clear ; 
And louder notes from hemlock large, 

And bog-reed, struck the ear ; 
But solemn sounds, or sober thoughts, 
The Fairies cannot bear." 



394 Notes 

Then follows : — 

" They sing, inspired with love and joy, 
Like skylarks in the air : 
Of solid sense, or thought that 's grave, 
You '11 find no traces there." 
Pretty enough in its own way, but certainly not the "true 
thing." A fragment, "Tom Linn," is given in A New 
Book of Old Ballads, Edinburgh, 1844. The hero is else- 
where named "Tom a lin," and "Thomlin." "The Tale 
of the Young Tamlene " is mentioned in The Complaynt 
of Scotland (1548). 

Carterhaugh is a plain about a mile from Selkirk, and the 
peasants are said to point out the localities where the inci- 
dents of the ballad took place. 




INDEX OF FIRST LINES 



PAGE 

A fair maid sat at her bower-door 354 

A' the boys of merry Lincoln 240 

All in the merry month of May 243 

An ancient story I '11 tell you anon 65 

Annan Water 's wading deep 47 

As I was walking all alane 5 

Brent's your brow, my Lady Elspat 337 

Childe Maurice was a handsome young man 90 

Clerk Saunders and may Margaret 152 

Down Dee-side came Inverey whistling and playing . . . 310 

Ettrick Forest is a fair forest 250 

Fair Catherine from her bower-window 284 

False Sir John a-wooing came 245 

Glasgerion was a harper gude 358 

God send the land deliverance 34 

Her mither died when she was young 73 

Hie upon Hielands 236 

I am no love for you, Margaret 350 

I wish I were where Helen lies 356 

In London was Lord Beichan born 145 

Is there ever a man in all Scotland 104 

It fell about the Martinmas , 23 

It fell upon a holy-day 266 



396 Index 

It fell upon a Wodensday 94 

It was about Yule, when the wind blew cool 29 

It was intill a pleasant time 14 

Johnnie rose up in a May morning 77 

Lamkin was as good a mason 297 

Late at e'en, drinking the wine 11 

Lithe and lysten, gentylmen 160 

Lord Ingram and Childe Vyet 305 

Lord John stood in his stable door 313 

Lord Thomas and fair Annet 325 

Lord Thomas he was a bolde forester . , 237 

My love he built me a bonny bower 318 

Near the King's court was a young child born 6 

Now, as fame does report, a young Duke keeps a court . . 302 

Now ponder well, you parents dear 139 

O Alison Gross, that lives in yon tower 102 

O Bessie Bell and Mary Gray 60 

O fairest lady ever seen 262 

O have ye na heard o' the fause Sakelde 271 

O, I forbid ye, maidens a' 364 

O waly, waly, up the bank 42 

O well is me, my jolly goshawk 96 

O wha wad wish the wind to blaw 21 

O wha will shoe my bonny foot 116 

O where hae ye been, Lord Ronald, my son? 353 

O where hae ye been, my lang-lost lover 293 

O Willie 's large o' limb and lith 81 

Our lords are to the mountains gane 323 

"Rise up, rise up, Lord Douglas ! " she says 69 

She sat down below a thorn 279 

Sleep'ry Sim of the Lamb-hill 289 

Sweet Willy 's ta en him o'er the faem 319 

The Duke of Gordon's three daughters 345 

The gard'ner stands in his bower door 363 



Index 397 

The king sits in Dunfermline town 61 

The Laird o' Drum is a-hunting gane . . . . . . . . 43 

The love that I hae chosen 132 

The Percy out of Northumberland 49 

The reivers they stole Fair Annie 84 

There are twelve months in all the year 1 1 1 

There came a ghost to Marjorie's door 334 

There lived a wife at Usher's Well 32 

There was a may, and a weel-fared may 108 

There was a youth, and a well-beloved youth 157 

There were twa sisters sat in a bower 133 

This ae nighte, this ae nighte 122 

Threescore o' nobles rade to the king's ha' 137 

True Thomas lay on Huntley bank 1 

When Robin Hood and Little John 280 

Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude 248 

Willie stands in his stable 339 

Will ye go to the Hielands, Lizie Lindsay 330 

Young Lady Margaret sits in her bower 124 




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